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'■■ li* 11 PPP 



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Volume XIII Plymouth, Mass., June, 1934 No. 

Published this year as a Senior Year Book 

1933 The Pilgrim Staff 1934 

Editor-in-Chief _•_._.. Florence Armstrong 

Associate Editor ---------- Shirley Dutton 

Literary Editor - Lucy Holmes 

Assistant Literary Editor Marion McGinnis 

Business Manager - Gilbert Andrews 

Assistant Business Manager William Brewster 

Boys' Athletics _,_-_- Francis Lavache 

Girls' Athletics - - Augusta Cappella 

Art - Maxine Russell 

Exchange Editor - Leroy Schreiber 

Assistant Exchange Editor William Pearson 

French Editor _■___. Laura Lamborghini 

Latin Editor ----------- Charles Cooper 

Alumni Editor Jeannette Martin 

Joke Editor - - William MacPhail 

Assistant Joke Editor - - - Harvey Barkc 

School News Editor -------- Marjoric Belcher 

Assistant School News Editor ------- Alba Martinelli 

„ _ ,. (Robert Martin 

Feature Editors - ^Eleanor Bradford 

Freshman Editor - Mary Bodell 



History of Class of 1934-------------- 4 

Random Shafts ----------------- 5 

Last Will and Testament -------------- 16 

Class of '34 Movie Review -------------- 17 

Class Prophecy ----------------- 17 

Feature Column ----------------- 20 

Class Poem ------------------ 23 

Slants on Steniors ----------------- 24 

Trebor the Great ----------------- 24 

"The Cathedral Clock" --------------- 26 

Class Song ------------------- 27 

Pestilential Personals ---------------- 27 

"The Trysting Place" --------------- 28 


Boy, Page Mr. Boston --------------- 29 

Precious Treasures ---------------- 30 

Just Things ------------------ 30 

Contrast ------------------- 30 

Catastrophe ------------------ 31 

Tricky Advertisements --------------- 31 

A Deserted Street ----------------- 32 

The Power and the Glory -------------- 32 

The Old Well ------------------ 33 

Sophomore Poetry Page --------------- 34 

The Truth Will Out --------------- - 35 

Weep Some More, My Lady! -------------- 3 6 

Is This the End? ----------------- 3 6 

Glimpses of Tragedy ---------------- 36 

Oh, Henry! ------------------ 38 

Take a Tuck in Time ---------------- 39 

A Plea -------------------- 39 

Letters We Never Wrote -------------- 39 

Slips That Pass in the Study Hall ------------ 40 

The Story of the Old Man -------------- 40 

Eulogy for Sam ----------------- 41 

The Day's End ----------------- 41 

A Little Boy Speaks ---------------- 41 

To the Tower of Learning -------------- 42 

Destinies ------------------- 42 

A Short Story's Short Story -------------- 42 

Under the White Cupola ----------------- 43 

Alumni Notes -------------------- 44 

Athletics ---------------------- 46 

Foreign Languages 

French -------------------- 50 

Latin -------------------- 51 

Exchanges --------------------- 53 

Jokes ----------------------- 57 



(Muzz of 1934 

TN sincere appreciation of the time 
A and work she has put into the pub- 
lication of "The Pilgrim" in this and 
former years, we hereby dedicate this 
issue to Mrs. Carl Raymond, our 
faculty advisor and teacher of Senior 


Class of 1934 


Plymouth High School 


President Lawrence Michael Bongiovanni 

Vice-President William Souther Brewster 

Secretary Florence Catherine Armstrong 

Treasurer Marion Zandi 

Yale Blue and Silver 

Ad astra per aspera — To the stars through difficulties 

Yellow Rose 

History of the Class of 1934 

THAT demon, circumstance, was a 
prime factor in our struggles toward 
Commencement Day. Most of us en- 
tered this world during 1915 or '16 at 
a time when there raged a war which 
doubtless eclipsed, to some extent, the 
importance of the various "blessed 
events." Simple arithmetic, therefore, 
will show that we began our four-year 
war to banish Ignorance in 1930 when 
shekels were scarce and ways of get- 
ting them scarcer. 

Energetic Freshmen that we were 
however, we proceeded to show the 
town, (and the world), that there was 
still money lying around for those who 
had the eyes to see it, by successfully 
engineering two dances, one at the 
Plymouth Country Club, the other at 
Memorial Hall. During this school 
year one of our number, Shirley Dut- 
ton, wrote the school song which has 
been used ever since. It was at this 
time that we had the misfortune to lose 
one of our classmates, Edward White, 
who, after a brave fight, fell victim to 
infantile paralysis. 

Sophomores! A word which might 
dampen the ardor of many a second- 
year man. Yet when lack of funds 
threatened discontinuance of The Pil- 
grim, it was the Sophomers who took 
the honors in getting advertising to 
meet expenses. The prize-winners 
were Ruth Buttner, Jeannette Martin, 

Shirley Dutton, and Gilbert Andrews. 

In our Junior year many events took 
place in which we had an active inter- 
est. Our Junior Prom was a definite 
social success, while another Gilbert 
and Sullivan operetta, "The Pirates of 
Penzance," was presented with many 
Juniors in the cast. It is interesting 
to note at this time that, since The 
Pilgrim had become a Senior year 
book, two ambitious Juniors, Carlo 
Guidobcni and Robert Martin, produced 
several lively issues of a magazine called 
The Junior Pilgrim. 

Our last year at P. H. S. saw a galaxy 
of Senior stars in the major sports, 
football and basketball. An inspiring 
Christmas play, "The Cathedral Clock," 
was produced entirely by Seniors 
and proved to be one of the best dra- 
matic presentations of the year. A 
crowning social success, if not a finan- 
cial one, was the Senior Dance, man- 
aged by an able committee. To climax 
our Senior achievements we produced a 
one-act play, "The Trysting Place," 
followed by a dance. This enterprise, 
unlike some of our former endeavors, 
was financially, as well as socially, suc- 
cessful. It was, therefore, with a feeling 
of regret mingled with a sense of ac- 
complishment that we passed on to our 
final great project — Graduation. 

George Farnell '34 




Down from Manomet 
On the bus, 
Every morning 
She comes to us. 


Johnnie's very bashful — 
He's quiet in a crowd, 
And, though he has opinions, 
He'll not voice them aloud. 


What was that that just 
whizzed by? 

Why, that was Gilly dancing. 

He surely picked a fast first 
love — 

Just watch the fancy pranc- 


Flossie, you've been a good 

And editor-in-chief, too: 
You've served us well in 

many ways, 
We've nothing but praise for 



Dot, you've had some "tough 

We hope they're ended, too — 

And may the years bring per- 
fect health 

And only joy to you. 


Harvey's always talking; 
His tongue is never still. 
He really can't keep quiet- 
He has too much to "spill." 



Appointments — commit- 
tees — 
Doing her part — 
Always working 
With all her heart. 


Hollywood may have its Ben- 

Famous Constance — sister 
Joan — 

But we're sure on any "set" 

Red-haired "Brick" could 
hold her own. 


Always running 'round, 
Clearing up a fuss, 
An important lad, 
But just "Prof" to us! 


"Toots" hears the springtime 

Of cottage, wood, and lake — 
And just as soon as possible, 
That rustic path he'll take. 


"Borgy" is a lazy lad, 

But there are times, you bet, 

When he's as spry as spry can 

That's when she calls him 



Lindy's very bashful — 

He runs when girls come 

But just the same he's got 

His pals have sadly found. 



Eva has a giggle, 
A "catching" one 'tis true, — 
For, if you listen very lonj 
You'll be giggling, too. 


Bertha drawls each word she 

About the boys she's mat, 
But Bert knows what she 

wants to be, 
She'll make a good nurse yet. | 


"Squanto," "Pokey," Elean- 
or — • 
They call her many names, 
And can she sell the tickets 
To plays and football games! 


Jo and Jerry, 
Wreathed in smiles, 
Will soon be walking 
Down church aisles. 


David, the philatelist, 
In truth the word's well- 
meant — 
Knows his stamps from A to 


And from them finds content. 


Bill, you're always grinning, 
You smile the whole day 

No wonder that cute "sophy" 
Has fallen hard for you! 


We thought that he was quiet, 
This statement we amend: 
Mike can play the saxophone 
And it's his bosom friend! 


Helen wants to have it known 
There is just one voice 
That can make her pulses beat 
And her heart rejoice. 


"Tarzan, the fearless" 
Is the name: 

We think it appropriate; 
Shirley thinks the same. 


Popular at dances, 
On her toes at school, 
Always ready with a smile, — 
Quiet, as a rule. 


"Skippy" always hurries in 
At half a minute of eight: 
Shes' never, never early — 
But almost never late. 


Cal likes to "play around" 
With bullets, guns, and 

And so it might be safer 
If cats do have nine lives. 



Tommy's grin 
Is of great size — 
But he's shy 
Of staring eyes. 


Malcolm goes to Amherst, 

He's Augusta's "chief" de- 

And, when he comes from 

She sees him every night. 


Have you seen her ring? 
One of which she's proud — 
Note the blissful smile — 
She's floating on a cloud. 


Spends his time dancing 
And driving for his dad, 
Always ready for some fun, 
What a lively lad! 


Mary is a quiet girl, 

Very studious, too; 

And always when you meet 

She'll have a word for you. 


A jolly girl, — 
We all know 
Something will be doing 
Wherever she may go. 


A flash of red 
Dashes by; 
It's Alice — driving, 
Hair awry. 


Clarkie's a whizz at basket- 

But he's famous elsewhere, 

Any night at the Interstate 

He'll find a seat for you. 


Think that what she says is 

I never had a "crush," — 
But just mention one boy's 

And, then, watch her blush. 


She cooks, she sews, she wash- 
es — 
A wonderful wife she'll make. 
There'd be a rosy future 
If Eddie this hint would take. 


In this wondrous life of hers 

Kenneths come by two's and 
three's — 

But one shouldn't make com- 
plaints — 

Least of all Louise! 


Howie's always carrying 
That big brief-case around; 
It bulges from the books in- 
And almost weighs him down. 



Little girl 
Gay and sweet, 
Coal-black curls 
Short and neat. 


Ameglio likes chickens, 

The "feathery" kind, 'tis true, 

And they've become his pride 

and joy 
And sole ambition, too. 


She used to be a little plump, 
Then she went on a diet; 
Please give us your prescrip- 
And maybe we shall try it. 


This. girl likes fruit a-plenty, 
A special kind, 'tis true, 
And we don't blame you, 

We like bananas, too. 


"Chuck" is rather chubby — 
He's good-natured just the 

And in the years to come, 

we'll bet 
As a wrestler he'll gain fame. 


Alice seemed to be 
So very shy 
Until she rode up 
On a ferris wheel high. 


What shall we say of our 

She's small and efficient and 

She's also a very fine speaker: 
In fact, she's hard to beat. 


You are quite a student — 
A good pianist, too, 
And you merit lots of luck — 
And of troubles — very few! 


Some day John 
Is going to earn fame; 
As a great architect 
He'll make a name. 


Ruth is very talkative 
When she meets a boy. 
A conversation with a fellow 
Always gives her joy. 


Kay, of all the memories 
Poignant to recall — 
"Just A Year Ago Tonight' 
Is tenderest of all. 


He has his heart still on his 

His rhythm in his toes — 
You'd think she'd know she's 

This girl, with all her beaux. 



"Goldy's" most proud 
Of her tiny feet; 
A winsome lass, 
And very "petite." 


"Augie" went to Granite 

"Augie" "joined" a camp, 
"Augie" stopped some B.B. 

And fled the brunette vamp. 


Doc's an athlete 
Through and through, 
Boys like him 
Are all too few. 


She drives past 
In a fine car. 
Hey, Barby, 
Going far? 


A thesis caused him worry, 
But he had friends about, 
And t'is said that in study 

He, also, helps others out. 


Iride is very sweet, 

So says Andy, so 

We must take his word for 

it — 
You see, ur wouldn't know. 


He wears a great big frown — 
Looks ready for a fight — 
But who's afraid of the Big 

Bad Wolf? 
His bark is worse than his 



She has many boy-friends, 
They keep her in a whirl: 
Whitman, Maine, and West 

Point — 
All boys like this girl. 


Sophisticated, blaze', 
A walking fashion-plate — 
She is a finished dancer, 
And an expert on a date. 


"Bundles" is a package 
Full of joy and mirth — 
And she thinks that Sparky's 
The greatest thing on earth. 


Dot's our pianist when we 

Music that is new. 
She knows all the latest songs 
And she'll play them all for 



He doesn't seem to like the 

But don't relax — beware! 

He's one of those strong, si- 
lent men, 

At heart a woman-slaver. 




Brunette tresses, 
Eyes of blue. 
Friendly girl, 
We all like you. 


"Pete" knows that, if you do 

your work, 
You will get somewhere — 
And there are girls who gain 

from this 
And let her do their share. 


A's are her hobby 
As everyone knows; 
Intelligence shines 
From her head to her toes. 


She has the sweetest little grin, 
Which she always shows; 
We hope that some day she 

will win 
That nice blonde boy she 


"Fat" is a boy 
Who's hard to beat, 
Who likes a girl 
Pretty and petite. 


Little Lena's never heard — 

Tiny, quiet, meek: 

We wonder if she says a 

word, — 
We seldom hear her speak. 


Anna had the measles — 
Dick saw her every day; 
We think 'twould take a cy- 
To keep her Dick away. 


"Schnozzle," "Pop-eye," 

the "Baron" — 
He can mimic Cantor; 
Mac's a man of ready wit: 
The proof is in his banter. 


Angie is the neatest girl 
That we've ever seen — 
She can make her whole ward- 
With the help of her sewing 


Rina's efficient, 
She wears quiet clothes, — 
She's always with Hilda 
Wherever she goes. 


Jeannette is always working, 
But working is just one joy; 
Oft when you see her busy — 
She's busy with a boy. 


A wisecracker great is John- 

Kidding's his favorite game. 

On Broadway, he'd equal the 
best of them all, 

And make for himself a name. 




Buddy is a busy bee 

And flits from "flower" to 

But when you want a job 

well done, 
He'll do all that's in his 



Hilda, you're another talker 
Gossiping of everyone, 
Discussing all our bad 

points — 
Is that your idea of fun? 


Marion is a jolly person, 
Always giggling, always gay: 
She has a smile for everyone 
At any time of day. 


In almost every study 
You get an even "A." 
You "rate" that way with 

Eddie — 
A lucky girl, we'd say. 


Her diamond shines, 
Her smile does, too; 
We hope she finds 
That "Smoke" is true. 


Jo is very, very bright — 
She plays the piano, too; 
And when you sample her 

"bow knots," 
There's a treat in store for 



Fred dreams in the daytime 
So he may sleep at night, 
He always has spring fever: 
He's in a frightful plight. 


"Mrs. Curtis" lost her swain; 
To find him she could not — 
Look beneath the divan, dear, 
And you'll spy Launcelot. 


Beatrice and Blanche, you 
often walk 

To Junior High at one 

And with the school bus driv- 
ers talk — 

You sisters! 

Which is Blanche and which 
is Bea 

Is something no one ever sees, 

For you're as alike as two 
small peas, 

You sisters! 


Marie, we've caught you! 
You've got a crush! 
Just mention Eddie 
And watch her blush. 


Babe has a way 
Of finding out 
Secrets we'd rather 
Not have about. 




"Iggy" is a quiet lass 

Who pays attention in every 

The business ladder she will 

Success will come to her in 



Dot was the maker of the 
"Three Little Pigs" 

And the old wolf big and 

And she was also Mrs. Briggs 

In a play we Seniors had. 


Always smiling, 

Always gay, 

Is it Chet 

Makes you that way? 


Sis comes down from Forges 

Where all the animals are: 
She may ride horses when at 

But she rides to school in her 



Doris, you don't say much, 
But we know 'tis true 
Pete plays an important part 
In everything you do. 


Tall — athletic — 

You know the way: 

She's down from Long Pond 

Every day. 


Although he's good in history, 
He rarely speaks at all — 
Perhaps his mind is wander- 
To the bat and ball. 


She plays the piano — 
She's slender and fair — 
She's the talented girl 
Joe Pioppi can't spare. 


Laura's quite a singer — 
A high soprano she; 
She warbles all the high notes 
In any melody. 


Why anyone should call him 

No one seems to know: 
Perhaps at Jabez Corner 
They could tell you, though. 


We wonder why you're al- 
ways smiling. 

Is it because your marks are 

Or is it "J" from Dorchester 

Who keeps the twinkle in 
your eye? 


Are you, perhaps, too lazy — 

Is it too warm in bed 

Ever to get up when you 

You hopeless sleepy-head? 




When he isn't "making bas- 

"Duck'em's" riding in his car. 

Some day he'll just keep go- 

And he surely will go far. 


Lena is a new addition 

To our little town — 

Though she hasn't been here 

With boys she's gained re- 


He's loyal to one love alone, 
But, girls, here's my advice: 
If you would keep your hearts 

at home, 
Don't look at Tommy twice. 


Pretty girl, 
Tall and thin — 
Does her tasks 
With a grin. 


Carmino, you're a bright 

boy — 
With marks all A or B, 
And all of this would seem 

to prove 
To knowledge you've found 

the key. 


Why do they call you "Scoot- 

Why don't you object? 

For we'll tell you very frank- 

It's the worst name we've 
heard yet. 


Maxine has worked unceas- 

To decorate for our class: 

Joy and success in her chosen 

We wish for this talented 


Charley has a friendly grin 
And a mop of red, red hair. 
Wherever you see Helen, 
Charley's probably there. 


Deedy spends summers at 

Where the moonlight is per- 
fectly great. 

If you don't believe it, ask 
her, — 

She'll be very glad to relate. 


Wherever you go, there's 

Sampy — 
In each play. he takes a part. 
He's also quite a lady's man, 
And his dancing is truly an 



When Joe works after school 

He's a grocery clerk, it's true; 

But, while he's in the build- 

It's messenger work he must 


Oh, Laura dearly loves to 

And jumps at each and every 

To trip the light fantastic 

Gliding to music soft and low. 




Meta, you have far to walk 
Wherever you want to go, 
For from your house to the 

center of town 
Is a long, long way, we know. 


"Well, I don't know, I 
guess — ", he says 

When called upon in school; 

And he can draw some bright 
cartoons, — 

But he's bashful as a rule. 


George is a boy who likes to 

One can see that at a glance — 
For at every school dance, 

George is there — 
Dapper, spry, and debonair. 


Lil always likes to take her 

She can't be blamed for that. 
And she's a nifty dresser, 

too — 
Neat skirt, blouse, shoes, and 



Wink, oh, wink, our class- 
mate Joe! 

How we wonder how you 

When to close your big 
brown eye 

When the teacher's not close 


When shades of nights are 

Our "Herbie" travels down 
The road that leads to Man- 

From dear old Plymouth 



Ashley's another classmate 
Who is a baseball man: 
He listens in on all the games, 
For he's an ardent fan. 


Vinnie likes to argue 

Anytime or anywhere. 

Class meeting is the best 

He's always debating there. 


Angie is a busy girl: 
When school is over — then 
She hustles off to go to work 
In the "five and ten." 


Curly-headed Mary 
Intends to be a nurse, 
An excellent profession: 
She surely could do worse. 


Francis has a sense of humor 
As his stories all will tell, 
But he's not content with 

He's a player of chess as well. 


Chip, there's one thing in this 

High School 
That you haven't learned at 

And that's the list of rules 
About talking in study hall. 




Kathryn and Millie 
Are always together; 
Never apart 
Whatever the weather. 


"You ought to be in pic- 
Gable would envy you, 
And that isn't all, we'll say, — 
We've found your pals do, 


Paul is our "popular tenor" 
Who broadcasts over the air. 
Listening to his love songs 
Would banish every care. 


Wendy is fair 
And pretty to see, 
So Chipper thinks — 
And we must agree. 

mAM M 


"Woodie" is a little flirt, 
The boys all think she's 

At every dance to which she 

She is the leading belle. 


Do you want a play well 

Are there color effects that 

are new? 
Then call for electrician 

He's the one for you. 


Always most collected and 

Never worried or blue, 
She's an ace in all her studies, 
And an ace on the dance floor, 



Just watch her playing 

She surely is a wow: 

And her greatest life's am- 

Is to teach beginners how. 


Louise, you are a quiet girl, 
A model for you we seek — 
Hear Edna Wallace Hopper: 
She'll teach you how to speak! 



Last Will and Testament 

"W/E, the illustrious and benevolent 
*Y class of 1934, the victims of this 
hectic age of inflation and recovery, 
about to make our final departure from 
P. H. S., deem it wise, expedient, and 
indicative of our profound gratitude to 
bequeath the following to those who 
have sustained us in our exigencies : 

To Mr. Shipman : An eighty-pint hat 
and a lariat for further impersonations 
of Tom Mix. We might throw in a 
"six-shooter," to complete the effect, of 
course, but it must not to be used in 
subduing recalcitrant seniors. 

To Mrs. Raymond : Another English 
IV, period 2 class equally appreciative 
of Shakespeare's art and symbolical 
Christmas dramatic productions. 

To Miss Brown : A new set of sorely- 
needed maps ; a luxurious Moroccan 
leather-covered armchair to substitute 
for those harassed desk tops, whose pro- 
testing squeaks we have so often heard, 
and another Caldera to carry on. 

To Mr. Bagnall : Bigger and better 
world problems to discuss with Corey's 
successor, and another Riddell to smirk 
at when reading Girl Scout notices. 

To Mr. Fash : A book on the duties of 
a host. If the entire Physics class be- 
come "guests," by June we may actually 
have a "social period." 

To Miss Carey : A book of philosophy 
to supply those instructive proverbs for 
the coming year. Remember the old 
standby, "Learn to say 'no' ; it is better 
than knowing how to read 'French' ". 

To Miss Wilber : A red, silk cushion 
to take the place of that mis-used Latin 
dictionary and a man-trap (to be em- 
ployed, of course, in catching prowlers 
at Latin club meetings). 

To Miss Judd: A dozen of Lily 
Pons' records as a tribute to her truly 
marvelous voice. She may borrow the 
victrola in Room 15 without hurting 
our feelings in the least. 

To Mr. Smiley: A feline with zip- 
per attachment to facilitate the oper- 
ation of dissection. 

To Mr. Young: An extensive tract 
of land, behind the "new school build- 
ing," in which to raise chickens, pota- 
toes, corn, spinach, garlic, cauliflower, 
sunflowers, rags, bottles, old shoes, 
razor blades, . . . oh, there we go again ! 

To Mrs. Buck: Another bass to hit 
the high notes, one which may be used 
as an example for the tenors. 

To Miss Kelly : More school regula- 
tions to enforce so punctually at 7:45 
a. m. 

To Mrs. Swift: Our sincerest best 
wishes ! May you continue to elucidate 
the principles of grammar to attentive 

To Mr. Pioppi : Encouragement ; 
"the stirring of one grain of sand may 
precipitate the avalanche." By 1943 
we shall probably see a high school or- 
chestra that will put Walter Damrosch 
and Ermes Manzotti to shame. 

To Miss Rafter: Shoes with cleated, 
leather heels; stealthy approaches 
scmetimes prove embarrassing for un- 
suspecting students in the study hall ! 

To Miss Locklin : A new, unbridged 
volume on the improved methods of 

To Mr. Smith : A picture of him- 
self, opportunely snapped at Manomet 
Beach, to be hung in Room 12; about 
which he may say, "No, children, that 
is not Samson or Mr. Sandow, — that is 
yours truly !" 

To Miss Jacques: A large sign dis- 
playing the correct pronunciation of 
her name. What is it, — Jarks, Jaks, 
Zharks, or Zhaks? The Winner gets a 
rubber doll ! 

To Mr. Mongan : A list of alibis, no 
longer acceptable, which are often ad- 
vanced by Seniors as a means of gain- 
ing admission to the Freshman domain. 
"America for Americans and the Fresh- 
man girls for the Freshmen!" 

To Miss Dowling: Congratulations 
on her return to health ! 

To Miss Humphrey : A set of rubber 
book ends to thwart the mischievous at- 
tempts of early arrivals in Room 1. 

To Miss Hendry : A new set of elec- 
tric ranges ; maybe, after a while, some 
one will build a new school around 

To Miss Lang: New typewriters 
without keyboards; this would elimi- 
nate the necessity of repeating, "Keep 
your eyes off the keyboard." 

To Miss Johnson : A platform like 
that in Room 28. It would be useful 
in adding height. 

To Miss Coombs: A small, portable 
radio with which to while away the 
many hours when there is absolutely 
nothing to do ! 

To Mrs. Garvin : A basketball team ! 
. . . Enough said ! 

To the Freshman Faculty : Congrat- 
ulations for having successfully weath- 
Continued on page 48 




Outward Bound — Class of 1934 
Only Yesterday — We were lowly Frosh 
Strictly Dynamite — Barbara Bennett 
Let's Be Ritzy — Class Banquet 
Blood Money — Oh, those class dues! 
Dancing Lady — Severina Zammarchi 
The Dark Hazard — That last report 

Lady Killer — Alton Cavicchi 
I Like it That Way — Study minus teach- 
The Chief — Coach Bagnall 
Captured — Marie Parenteau by Ed- 
die B. 
From Headquarters — Caldera to the 

Design for Living — Boy's Home Econ- 
omics Class 
Tarzan the Ape Man — Harry Burns 
Her Bodyguard — Rita's Cliff 
Pilgrimage — Our visits to P. H. S. in 

years to come 
S. 0. S. Iceberg — Jeannette's midwinter 

This Day and Age — What are we com- 
ing to ? 
The Thundering Herd — Lena Ronca- 

rati's boy friends 
Too Much Harmony — Senior quartet 
Storm at Daybreak — Hurrah ! No 

The Comeback — At Whitman next year, 

we hope 
Golden Harvest — When we're all mil- 
The Border Legion — Shall we graduate? 
Melody in Spring — Just spring fever 
It Ain't No Sin— To fall for a Fresh- 
Advice to The Lovelorn — In Room 12 
The Show-Off — A certain usher 
Laughing Boy — Kenneth Gray 
Stage Mother — Dorothy Perkins 
Song of Songs — Our Class Song 
The Last Trail— From June 1 to 21 
Transatlantic — In Augie Gomes' canoe 
The Trumpet Blows — Vincent Tassinari 
Waltz Time — Commencement 
Stand up and Cheer — We're on our way 

The editors wish to express their 
indebtedness to the Commercial De- 
partment for typing the copy for this 
issue of "The Pilgrim." 

Class Prophecy 

THE years following the graduation 
of the class of 1934 were boom years 
for Plymouth. Prosperity reigned, and 
now, in 1959, just a quarter of a cen- 
tury later, Plymouth has attained an 
unexcelled greatness as an industrial 
and commercial center. As a result, 
Plymouth has been selected as the site 
for the world's fair of 1959. 

Shall we make a little visit to the 
fair? Maybe we can find some of our 
old classmates, through whose efforts 
this spectacle was made possible. 

A blare of trumpets announces a 
parade. The magnificent figure swing- 
ing the baton is George '"Boof" Riddell, 
who got his training (and uniform) 
from Interstate. 

Next comes "Vinnie" Tassinari with 
his cornet drowning out the other mem- 
bers. Fred Morton, with his flute toots 
a toot or two, too, while Helen Burgess 
is playing the steam calliope. 

My! what a magnificent parade! 
Here comes the Chamber of Commerce. 
Their leader, Francis Lavache, wear- 
ing a big red ribbon across his front, 
is accompanied by President Andrew 
Guerra. The Vice-President, Alton Ca- 
vicchi, isn't here. He stopped in at 
Joe Stefani's combination soda foun- 
tain, booke shoppe, quick lunch, — and 
drug store for a frappe! Anyway, no 
one seems to miss him. Vice-Presidents 
are like that, you know. 

Now come the cabinet members. 
Howard Corey, Secretary of State, has 
hunted in Africa, India, Borneo, and on 
the Carver Plains. Wonder what he 
lost? The Postmaster General, Roger 
Borgeson, is riding with Marion Zandi, 
Secretary of the Treasury, and Francis 
Caldera, Secretary of Labor. The last 
in this group is John Martin, Secretary 
of the Navy. He has a battleship tat- 
tooed on his chest and, whenever it 
fires a broadside, it rattles his teeth and 
gives him a headache. The protection it 
affords is well worth the discomfiture, 

Next in the parade, riding in her new 
1959 "Rolls Rough" made by the 
August Gomes Motor Company, comes 
Florence Armstrong, first woman Chief 
Justice. She is accompanied by mem- 
bers of her court, Frances Hall, Mary 
Ceccarelli, and Meta Shortman. 

The parade is concluded by a detach- 
ment of Marines, led by Sergeant Sur- 
rey, staggering under his silver braid. 



(Yes, gold is still shunned in America 
like shaving soap in Russia). 

Feeling hungry after the parade, we 
stop in at "Golden's Cafe." The pro- 
prietress, Irene Golden, says that good 
hash is never made, — it just accum- 
ulates. Here comes the waitress, Alice 
Dube, champion dish-juggler of seven 

Am I mistaken or is that Katherine 
Ghent and Margaret Raymond at that 
corner table? Yessir, it's the two fore- 
most leaders of women's clubs in the 
country arguing about, "Which came 
first, the chicken or the eggV Turning 
to Gilbert Andrews, who has just en- 
tered, Katherine put the question, 
"Which came first, the chicken or the 

"Well, now, let me see," said Gilbert, 
"in lieu of the homogenious conglom- 
eration of scientifically expounded data, 
and carefully considering the phraseo- 
logy of the technicalities therein, inas- 
much as the potentialities suggested are 
manifestly inaccurate, I should say — 
yes, of course, certainly, no doubt, 
doubtless, undoubtedly, without a 

Having relieved the ladies' minds, 
Andrews, whom we suspect of being an 
absent-minded professor, sat down to 
his dinner. We left then, but later 
Norina Manzi, another waitress, con- 
firmed our suspicions. Andrews, it 
seems, had scratched his waffle, and 
poured syrup down his back. 

Leaving the restaurant, we hear a 
droning up above. Angela Tavernelli, 
one of the guides, informs us that it's 
Joseph Sayre bringing Jean Anderson, 
Barbara Bennett, and Romayne Wen- 
dergren "hot from Hollywood" to take 
part in a spectacular stage show at the 
fair. Joe and his stratosphere taxi are 
in popular demand. 

Next we enter Ruth Buttner's gown 
shoppe for a moment to see the latest 
Paris fashions. Well, if it isn't Ruth 
herself, giving Louise Zucchi and Rita 
Cash a sales talk. You know, Louise 
and Rita need a new gown to wear to 
the bridge tournament at Lois Cunning- 
ham's tonight. We hear that, if Hilda 
Poschi and Mildred Mitchell promise 
not to trump their partners' aces more 
than six times in one evening, they 
may go, too. 

As we watch Alyce Bussolari and 
Mildred Reigel modeling some gowns, 
Marjorie Belcher, publicity and financi- 
el expert, and general manager of the 

fair, enters to see about some new uni- 
forms for her assistants, Lena Locatel- 
li, Marie Parenteau, and Mary Tor- 

We have to leave now, as Dorothy 
Baratta, a guide, informs us that the 
side-show is now open. As we depart, 
we see a poster reading, "IF YOU ARE 

On our way over to the side-show we 
pass the tennis courts. Jeannette Mar- 
tin, after years of practice with her 
husband, an expert, shows rare form 
in beating Severina Zammarchi, a play- 
er of no mean ability. 

As we round the corner, we are 
bowled over by a gust of — oh, it's only 
Lawrence Bongiovanni letting off steam 
from the platform of the side-show. We 
enter in spite of him and see, swinging 
from a rafter, Tarzan "Hairy" Burns 
and Harvey Barke who have "gone 
back to nature." 

On the first platform we see George 
"Musclebound" Silva, the strong man, 
performing Herculean feats of strength. 
Other members of the troup of acrobats 
are Charles Ryan, Augusta Cappella, 
and Kathryn Volk. 

Next we see Eleanor and Louise Cog- 
geshall, the Nightingale twins, Blanche 
and Beatrice, Ruth Gardiner, Joan 
Harlow, and Gula Pease in a chorus 

Now on the next platform we see 
Eleanor Ryan — and they're still hang- 
ing around her neck, only this time it's 
snakes, not boy friends. 

Next we come upon "Davy" Brewer 
chipping out arrowheads, — the chiseler. 
We always thought that a scallop was 
how horses ran, until he told us it was 
the result of a Blackfoot barber party. 

Lillian Skulsky, Ida Knight, and 
Hilda Medeiros, painted bronze to fool 
the public, do an Indian dance which is 
received with much applause. Maybe 
it's because "gentlemen prefer bronze." 

As a rare treat we see George Far- 
nell, who has been transplanted from 
his woodland hermitage to the Zulu Vil- 
lage. John Ferreira, cave-man EX- 
TRODINAIRE, looks simply ducky in 
his new leopard skin. 

The last thing on the program is a 
wrestling match between Robert Rock 
and Ralph Given. Too bad Ralph was 
disqualified for hiring Carmino Rosset- 
ti, professional hog caller, to grunt for 



Leaving the side-show, we enter the 
theater owned by Messrs. Anderson and 
Bates. As we enter, we are impressed 
by the murals painted by Dorothy Per- 
kins and Maxine Russell. The ushers, 
Bernice Corrow and Mary DeCost, find 
us some excellent seats. On with the 

A news reel flashes upon the screen 
and we see Eleanor Bradford, women's 
swimming champion, and Wilfred 
Huntley thrashing their way through 
the H 2 ! Miss Bradford won because 
Wilfred had so many lead medals on his 
suit he could hardly swim. 

The newsreel then transfers us to the 
laboratory of Robert Martin, chief sci- 
entist for the "Interplanetary Transpor- 
tation Company." We see Robert work- 
ing on a "disintegrator" for ridding 
solar space of dangerous comets and 
meteors. William Brewster, President 
of the company, is conferring with 
Artos Bonzagni and William Raymond, 
consulting engineers, while Emma Paul, 
secretary, drums her pencil, complac- 
ently chews her gum, and waves to 
Marion Milburn and Angelina Malagu- 
ti, passers-by. 

The next picture is flashed upon the 
screen, and we see William MacPhail, 
"America's gesticulating jester," and 
Elizabeth Wood, as his glamorous lead- 
ing lady, in a little comedy titled "THE 

The show being concluded by a short 
chorus number starring Ruth Murphy, 
assisted by Doris Pretoni, Marie Hurle, 
and Josephine Breveglieri, we enter the 
fairway once more and continue our 

Soon we come upon Howard Holmes, 
Olindo Borghesani, and Joseph Vac- 
chino brutally throwing baseballs at 
harmless milk bottles. We understand 
that Ralph Goodwin and Thomas Ron- 
carati dropped in here yesterday and 
had to send for Warren Sampson and 
his five-ton truck to carry home the 

We drop into Charlie Dretler's mam- 
"MOTH" clothing establishment to ask, 
"How's business?" Charlie says, "Don't 
speaking so loudly by the dead !' 

Leaving Charlie, we pass Agnes 
Cocchi's wax museum. My word! 
there's one of the dummies right in the 
door. Say, that looks familiar. Yes, 
it's Ashley Swift, ticket-chopper de- 
luxe, taking a little cat nap. 

Feeling a little warm, we drop in at 
Michele Brigida's lemonade stand for a 

refreshing drink. By the taste, we 
strongly suspect that only a pint of 
fruit acid and artificial flavor was need- 
ed to make ten gallons, yet we gladly 
accept "one on the house" cheerfully 
proffered by Eva Borsari, the waitress. 

Right next to Brigida's place Bertha 
Bouchard runs a do-nutte shoppe. Re- 
member a quarter of a century ago 
when Miss Locklin asked, "What do we 
mean when we say the whole is greater 
than any of its parts?" and Bertha 
whispered, "A restaurant doughnut?" 
Well, after sampling her pastry, we 
surely agree. We're not surprised to 
find Dunham Rogers, expert profes- 
sional basket-ball player, in here, too. 
As you know, athletes must have 
"whole-sum" food. 

We stop for a moment to see our 
friends, Phyllis Smith and Barbara 
Grant, who are giving a party in their 
penthouse tea room. We are pleasantly 
surprised to find there Muriel Minot, 
ace newshound, Josephine Montanari, 
world traveler and lecturer, and Bar- 
bara Chaplin, beautician, (who operates 
the old skin game.) Muriel, whom we 
shall nickname "vacuum cleaner," (if 
you want to know why, ask the author) 
informs us that Shirley Dutton has ac- 
cepted the position of French instructor 
aboard the Ille de France III. "Harold 
Clark," she said, "used to be a teller in 
Thomas Callahan's bank because he is 
a collector of rare coins and being in 
contact with so much money could sure- 
ly find some rare old vintages — pardon 
me, I mean mintages." Too bad, he 
was found to have quite a collection of 
the newer variety, too. 

Then we meet Laura Scagliarini, sec- 
retary of the Corvini Detective Agency, 
and Laura Richmond and Alice Childs, 
superintendents of the Carver Memor- 
ial Hospital. 

Wandering about the grounds again, 
we come upon a crowd milling about 
one of the booths. Elbowing our way in 
closer, we see the world's checker cham- 
pion, Leroy Schreiber, enjoying himself 
at the three overturned shells. Mum- 
bling something about "the hand is 
quicker than the eye", he places a pea 
under one and deftly switches them 
around. "Ladies, gentlemen, friends, 
and those of you who crawled under the 
canvas, I will now show you that the 
hand is quicker than the eye. Beneath 
which of these petite white shells does 
the little legume repose?" (Waxing a 

Continued on page 52 







Jean Anderson 


Talking in study hall 

To live at Whitehorse 

Florence Armstrong 


Impressing people with 
learned words 

To drive a red fire-truck 

Dorothy Baratta 



To be a private secretary 

Marjorie Belcher 


Talking — and how! 

To be an interior decorator 

Barbara Bennett 



To be a chorus girl 

Eva Borsari 



To find Adam 

Bertha Bouchard 




Eleanor Bradford 



To marry a backwoodsman 

Josephine Breveglieri 



To be a model 

Helen Burgess 


Chewing gum 

To be a dietician 

Alyce Bussolari 


A certain basketball 

To be a secretary 

Ruth Buttner 


Boats and such! 

To sail around the world 

Augusta Cappella 



To get a monopoly on the ball 

Rita Cash 


Play-fighting with Cliff 

Anything, as long as Cliff is there 

Mary Ceccarelli 


Chattering rapidly 

To own a movie theatre 

Barbara Chaplin 


Eating candy 

Always to have her own way 

Alice Childs 



To talk like Edna Wallace Hopper 

Agnes Cocchi 


(It's a deep secret!) 

To be a hairdresser 

Eleanor Coggeshall 



To surprise the world 

Louise Coggeshall 



To grow wings 

Bernice Corrow 



To be a perfect speller 

Lois Cunningham 



To shrink to — ! 

Mary DeCost 



To be a gigolette 

Alice Dube 


Writing gruesome stories 

To rival Edgar Allen Poe 

Shirley Dutton 


Robbing the cradle 

To be somebody "Big" 

Ruth Gardner 



To be a snake charmer 

Katherine Ghent 



To be an authoress 

Irene Golden 


Just plain Sam 

To be an aviatrix 

Barbara Grant 


Collecting Scotties 

To get 2 tomatoes in a tomato 

Frances Hall 


Guarding the office 

To be a "Baroness Munchausen" 

Helen Harlow 


Skipping homelessons 

To get away with it 

Joan Harlow 



To be a telephone operator 

Dorothy Holmes 


Tickling the ivories 

To meet that guy Gershwin 

Marie Hurle 


Selling tickets at Revere 

To win a 6 day bicycle race 

Ida Knight 


Writing poetry 

To be a poet 

Laura Lamborghini 



To edit an "Advice to the Love- 
lorn" column 

Irene LaRocque 


Taking chances 

To get a "certain job" 

Lena Locatelli 


Being quiet 

To find a secluded corner 

Anna MacDonald 


Dick H. 

To be a great artist 

Angela Malaguti 



To be a nurse 

Norina Manzi 


Reading wild west stories 

To take life easy 

Jeannette Martin 


Taking icy dips 

To acquire a "bear" skin 

Hilda Medeiros 



To be able to take rapid dictation 

Marion Milburn 




Muriel Minott 



To get that "Man " 

Mildred Mitchell 


Riding with "Smoky" 

To keep house for M. A. 

Josephine Montanari 



To go to B. U. School of Music 

Ruth Murphy 


Straining the piano 

To be a famous dancer 





Beatrice Nightingale 
Blanche Nightingale 
Marie Parenteau 
Emma Paul 

Gula Pease 

Dorothy Perkins 
Hilda Poschi 
Doris Pretoni 
Mary Prentice 
Margaret Raymond 

Mildred Reigel 

Laura Richmond 
Mary Riley 
Eleanor Roncarati 
Louise Rose 
Maxine Russell 
Eleanor Ryan 

Laura Scagliarini 

Meta Schortman 
Lillian Skulsky 
Phyllis Smith 

Angela Tavernelli 









Mary Torrance 

(Hi!) "Nellie 

Kathryn Volk 


Romayne Wendergren 


Elizabeth Wood 


Severina Zammarchi 


Marion Zandi 


Louise Zucchi 







Arranging her hair 
Arranging her hair 
Listening to crooners 
Teasing the boys 

Making impish faces 

"The 3 Little Pigs" 
Going to Wareham 
Dancing with Pete 
Riding horses 
Injuring her anatomy 

Chumming with Kath- 
erine Volk 








Getting a tan 




Galloping at Saquish 





Taking her time 

Giving vent to inces- 
sant vollies of con- 

Being the "Million Dol- 
lar Baby in the 5 and 
10 cent store" 

Being agreeable 

Shadowing Millie 

Looking pretty 

"Throwing a line" 

"Sweets from the sweet" 

Keeping track of her 


To be a circus queen 

To marry a bus driver 


To be or not to be: — brunette or 

To have a perfect attendance rec- 

To keep away the big bad wolf 

To settle down 

To be an empress 

To stay on 

To have a magic carpet for quick 

To enhance Manotti's "Trouba- 

To be an opera star 

"J" from Dorchester 

To graduate 

To grow taller! 

To be a commercial artist 

To own a kennel 

To be the President's secretary 

To become a famous coutouriere 
To find some ambition 
To be a dancer 

To be one of the best 

To be a nurse 

To be a vamp 

To attend two dances at the same 

To get around 

To go places 

To go to Posse-Nissen 

To go to Roseland 


John Anderson 


Skipping homework 

Gilbert Andrews 


Fastening angora but- 

Harvey Barke 


Bothering Miss Wilber 

Laurence Bongiovanni 


Operas and opera stars 

Artos Bonzagni 


Peddling groceries 

Roger Borgeson 


Doing nothing 

Olindo Borghesani 


Being shy (?) 

David Brewer 


Model airplane building 

William Brewster 


Horses, shooting, and 

Michele Brigida 


Playing the sax 

To be a physics professor 

To roller-skate around the corri- 

To be a Walter Winchell 

To preside at a model class meet- 

To sleep well 

To do nothing? 

To drive a racing car 

To invent a new gyroplane 

To be an Isaac "Nimrod" Walton 

To be right in physics — once! 







Harry Burns 


Sh! It might cause fire- 
works ! 

To understand Latin 

Francis Caldera 


Kidding the faculty 

To be a chef 

Thomas Callahan 


Saying little, if any- 

To be a pool shark 

Alton Cavicchi 


Eating bananas 

You'd be surprised! 

Harold Clark 



To be boss usher at the Inter- 

Howard Corey 


Talking about nothing 

To be a sheik 

Ameglio Corvini 


Raising chickens 

To sell them 

Charles Dretler 



To be another Samson 

George Farnell 


Walking the beach on 

To crack a good joke! 

John Ferreira 



To be an architect 

Ralph Given 


Leading a curly-haired 
miss over a waxed 

To be an "A&P" manager 

August Gomes 


Woman slaying 

To referee a good fight 

Ralph Goodwin 


Looking like Herbert 

To own a flea circus 

Kenneth Gray 


Scratching a fingernail 
on the blackboard 

To lead a jazz band 

Andrew Guerra 


Arguing about nothing 

To win the argument 

Carlo Guidoboni 


Kidding 'em 

He lacks it (?!) 

Howard Holmes 


Minding his own busi- 

To conquer those curls 

Francis Lavache 


Keeping company with? 

To be a football hero 

William MacPhail 


Drawing "pitchers" 

To be a "Scandals" producer 

John Martin 


Proving a point 

To be a communist 

Robert Martin 


Acting in all scholastic 
dramatic productions 

To live in the year A. D. 2500 

Frederick Morton 



I wonder 

William Raymond 



To be a baseball player 

George Riddell 


Walking to Jabez Cor- 

To be a travelling salesman 

Robert Rock 


Staring at the floor 

To be a future Sonnenberg 

Dunham Rogers 

"Duck 'em" 

"Making baskets" 

A new car 

Thomas Roncarati 


Getting off teams be- 
cause of injuries 

To get back on again 

Carmino Rossetti 


Eating ice-cream 

To be an aviator 

David Rushton 


Rolling his r's in French 

To be a cowboy 

Charles Ryan 


"Helen" (?) 

To be a gigolo 

Warren Sampson 


Dancing with? 

To be a swash -buckling villain in 

Joseph Sayre 


Hanging around 

To be a state cop 

Leroy Schreiber 


Playing cards — "hearts" 

To be a barker of a side-show 

George Silvia 


Selling gasoline 

To run a steamship line 

Joseph Stefani 


Winking — naughty ! 
naughty ! 

To be president of the U. S. A. 

Herbert Surrey 


Writing poetry — the sis- 

To own a Dusenberg 

Ashley Swift 


To own the Swiss navy 

Vincent Tassinari 


Being controversial in 
class meetings 

To be president — of what? 

Francis Trask 


Playing chess 

To surprise the world 

Joseph Vacchino 


Breaking study hall reg- 

To be a sage 

Mario Volta 


Hanging around 

Never heard of it 

Paul Warnsman 


Singing in Loring's or- 

To be director of the "Yeasty 



Yeast Hour" 

Harry Young 


Monkeying with radios 

To be an electrician 








The Senior who is: 
A Freshman's meat — Robert Martin 
Quiet as a mouse — Howard Holmes 
The fastest talker — Phyllis Smith 
The slowest talker — Bertha Bouchard 
The most athletic girl — Augusta Cap- 

The most athletic boy — Ralph Goodwin 
The class Romeo — Warren Sampson 
The class flirt — Elizabeth Wood 
The highest skyscraper — Herbert Sur- 
Tarzan of the Apes — Harry Burns 
Our Walt Disney — Dorothy Perkins 
The buddinor Romeo — Harold Clark 
Sleepiest — Robert Rock 
A one-man girl — Rita Cash 
Shy but intent — Olindo Borghesani 
Durante's rival — Frances Caldera 
The whistling paper boy — George Far- 

The best giggler — Emma Paul 
Oh, so happy (a sophomore?) — Francis 

All for Marge— "Boof" Riddell 

The seniors who are: 
The smoothest dancing couple — Sev- 
erina Zammarchi and Warren Samp- 
Canoeing experts? — August Gomes 

and William MacPhail 
The cutest couple — Alton Cavicchi and 

Bernice Corrow 
The worst nests — Harvey Barke and 

Barbara Bennett 
The class, skyscrapers — Gilbert An- 
drews. John Anderson, David Brewer, 
and Thomas Callahan 
The Senior w-ho has : 
The bluest eyes — Romavne Wendergren 
Such beautiful locks — Charles Ryan 
Petite feet — Irene Golden 
Red-head blues — Ruth Gardner 
Harlow-troubles — Jeannette Martin 
A yen for "Jack Holt" — Marion Zandi 


"Attention, all creatures of this solar 
system! This is Z-131629-V-13, thir- 
teen million, six hundred forty-five 
thousand, three hundred and thirteenth 
lieutenant of His Imperial Eminence. 
Trebor the Great, and exalted ruler of 
Sirius, Canopus, Alpha Centauri, Vega, 
Capella, Arcturus, Rigel, Procyon, 
Achernar. Beta Centauri, Betelguese, 
Altair. Alpha Crucis, Aldebaran, Pol- 
lux, Spica, Antares, Tomalbaut, Deneb, 
and Regulus (stars of the first magni- 
tude) broadcasting to the inhabitants 

of those insignificant planets of Mars, 
Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, and that unciv- 
ilized orb called er — Terrestria — er — 
Earth. This broadcast is coming direct- 
ly to you from the summit of Television 
City, Utopia, the largest metropolis of 
this tiny star of Betelguese which is 
located in the earthly constellation 
Orion. Betelguese, only 300,000,000 
miles in diameter, is an extremely small 
governmental center, but since most of 
its inhabitants rule the lives of crea- 
tures in neighboring constellations 
which are but a few billion light years 
away, it is by no means thickly popu- 

"All physical labor is done by ma- 
chinery, and the people devote them- 
selves entirely to supervising the de- 
velopment of distant planets. The 
interior of this star is entirely honey- 
combed, and the surface is roofed over 
with a thick covering of that living ele- 
ment znifckgudiak which Trebor so 
graciously bestowed upon his faithful 
subjects. The proximity of this element 
destroys all kinds of sickness and dis- 
ease, and even defeats death by instil- 
ling perpetual life in all organisms of 
the higher order. Trebor, himself, 
protects his lieutenants from all possi- 
ble means of destruction by constantly 
maintaining a mental control over their 
atomical structures, and were one 
blown to bits and his remains scattered 
in the far corners of the universe, Tre- 
bor could rebuild him accurately by 
duplicating his atomical structures pre- 
cisely from the immediate energy 
available in the outer void of space. 
Trebor was born or, rather, has been 
born many times, but he first came into 
existence three hundred and ninety-two 
million trillion eons ago. He showed a 
dominating propensity toward the use 
of scientific equipment and soon made 
a great reputation for himself as a 
scientist at the tender age of 361. Be- 
friending Xythaleous, the greatest 
mental genius of that time, he learned 
many things which later proved inval- 
uable to him. It was Xythaleous who 
taught him the mental control of his 
own atomic structure, and when the 
reptile men of a neighboring group of 
satellites invaded his world, he became 
instrumental in annihilating them since 
he feared no death. During the war 
which followed the invasion, Trebor 
was placed in charge of an expedition 
which destroyed completely the very 
satellites which these grotesque mon- 



sters inhabited, but upon returning 
home he was chagrined to find that 
Xythaleous, his parents, and half the 
population of the entire star had been 
killed by a dreadful meteoric plague 
that was still ravaging their solar sys- 

"Drawing feverishly upon his vast 
store of superhuman knowledge, Trebor 
sought protection against this deadly 
demon of destruction, and after twenty- 
five years of endless research work he 
discovered znifckgudiak, presenting his 
people with the secret of everlasting 
life. In gratitude they swore allegiance 
to him and vowed they would make him 
ruler of the universe. 

"In six hundred and thirty-four mil- 
lion years they had subdued and united 
eighty-five million seven hundred and 
forty-five hundred thousand billion 
stars in their first immediate magnitude 
and countless others in ninety-eight 
other magnitudes. Each of these stars 
now sends one-fourth of its entire pop- 
ulation to serve in Trebor's Imperial 
Armada which patrols the entire uni- 
verse and assists in the construction of 
artificial planets which help absorb the 
excessive population of these worlds 
which have shown themselves civilized 
and deserving of the perpetual life and 
perfect government which Trebor af- 
fords his subjects. 

"Trebor spends a number of years 
upon each of those planets which he 
eventually hopes to annex, and it was 
only sixty-five thousand years ago that 
Algol was added to his glorious king- 
dom and I, Z-131629-V-13, was en- 
trusted with the lives of countless tril- 
lions of creatures. 

"Although Trebor had conquered ev- 
ery difficulty that had ever impeded the 
progress of his universal empire and 
even attained immortality, he apparent- 
ly undertook the impossible when he re- 
fused to destroy the ignorant earthly 
inhabitants, but decided to develop their 
civilization, or lack of civilization, to 
newer and greater heighths. It was on 
August twentieth in the Earthly Year 
1916 that Trebor Nick leak Trekgure 
Regkc Aeiz Mekgzk, Trebor Nitram for 
short, made his debut on the humble 
sphere called Earth. Since it was the 
custom of the inhabitants to do every- 
thing opposite from the correct method, 
Trebor Nitram hereby reversed the 
spelling of his name, crawled into the 
puny shells of a monkey-like creature 
called man, and began his career as an 

Earthling. At present he has spent over 
seventeen monotonous years upon this 
hopeless subject, and this inter-celes- 
trial hookup is mainly to enable him to 
give specific orders for the maintain- 
ance of his ever-expanding universe for 
the next 25,000 years to come. 

"Well, will you look what's here! 
Folks, it's the strangest monstrosity 
Betelguese has ever known ! It's . . . 
T R E B R in the guise of an Earth- 
ling !!!..." 

"Greetings, salutations, and what 
have you. Folks, this is your own little 
ruler Trebor himself in the flesh, and 
am I glad to be here or am I not? 
That little place called Earth is some 
little joint, but is it gay or is it gay? 

"Oh! Z-13, you are to have indirect 
charge of the universe for the next 
25,000 years, and there are but a few 
simple things to do. In my spare time 
I have made a few calculations and find 
that only one-tenth of our universe has 
been united, and that the entire uni- 
verse is but an atom of a higher order 
of elements. You are to complete the 
annexation of all space available in our 
own universe, and to launch success- 
fully the invasion of other universes so 
that, after my holiday on Earth is over, 
my empire will be over two billion times 
its present size. Adieu. 

"Z-131629-V-13, in about fifty years 
you are to place a chap by the 
name of Carlo Casanova Don Romeo 
Guidaboni in charge of the canal 
project on Mars. Oh, nothing in 
particular, except he ran a personal 
column, and, when the other workers 
see how proficient he is at dishing the 
dirt, industry will be speeded up. 
"Annie" MacPhail, an estimable pal of 
mine, deserves only sympathy for some 
awful jokes he once wrote, but per- 
haps he will make a capable ruler for 
the hyena men of Alpha Centauri. 
"Gilly" certainly merits a spot in 
the sun, especially a SPOT! (not 
a fly speck). "Mucker" Schreiber, 
one of profoundest of profound wo- 
man-evasive males who constantly 
pretend they dislike the fairer sex) 
— in other words — darn — oops ! — I 
mean downright prevaricators, became 
— er — will become the Sultan of the 
United Mohammedan States of North 
and South America and Atlantis which 
was misplaced for so many centuries. 
He will attempt to instigate a bloody 
revolt in the Foreign Legion of Lost 

Continued on page 56 



Reading from left to right: Lawrence Bongiovanni, Robert Martin, Florence 
Armstrong, Shirley Dutton, Gilbert Andrews 

"The Cathedral Clock", the one-act 
Christmas play sponsored by the Senior 
English Classes of 1934, proved to be 
one of the outstanding dramatic events 
of the school year. The committees were 
as follows : 

Programs : Maxine Russell and Dor- 
othy Perkins 

Costuming : Josephine Montanari 
(ch.), MurieL Minott, and Frances Hall. 

Make-up: Katherine Ghent (ch.), 
Marjorie Belcher, and Harvey Barke. 

Lighting and Sound Effects: William 
MacPhail (ch.), William Brewster, and 
Harry Young. 

Stage: John Ferreira (ch.), Alton 
Cavicchi, David Rushton, and Artos 

The prologue was given by Jeannette 

The action of the play took place dur- 
ing the fifteenth century in the little 
old town of Danzig on the Baltic Sea. 
Among its most famous buildings is the 
cathedral, around which the story of 
the play was written. 

The cast included some of the school's 
best talent : 

Peer, a sick boy — Shirley Dutton 

Margaret, his mother — Florence 

Frederick Alfort, his father — Gilbert 

A Blind Man — Lawrence Bongiovan- 

The Visitor — Robert Martin. 

However, "there is more to this than 
meets the eye." Seemingly unsurmount- 
able barriers rose up to confront us, but 

we came through them all successfully 
and can look back upon them, now, as a 
pleasant memory, and laugh at what 
seemed tragic then. 

It was tragic having to wait on a 
stormy night with the freezing cold 
wind blowing a hurricane, for the gen- 
eral manager to arrive with the key. 
(That didn't happen many times, but 
when it did, it took a week to thaw out.) 
There were bad moments, right up to 
the morning of the play, when we con- 
scientious people trembled with the fear 
that the German clock might decide to 
strike one instead of twelve, despite the 
excellent supervision given it. There 
was the question of where to procure 
a fireplace and, once that was taken care 
of, how under the sun to convey the 
heavy thing to our stage in Room 1. 
We spent much of our time wondering 
if the blind man's cane would last until 
the day of the play, under the emotional 
display of Lawrence Bongiovanni at re- 
hearsals. The costuming committee was 
faced with the difficulty of getting trou- 
sers of the correct style, large enogh 
for Frederick Alfort, and poor Fred- 
erick found it nigh unto impossible to 
"almost commit suicide" with realism. 
So much artistic clipping was done on 
his mustache at the dress rehearsal that 
finally a fresh start had to be made with 
a new piece of "whisker". 

One afternoon when the stage was 
being set, one member of the stage com- 
mittee forgot his flawless record of con- 
tinual attendance and decided he must 
go skating instead. (And he did.) But 



perhaps the biggest worry of the al- 
ready gray-haired committees-in-charge, 
was the sickness of the Ethereal Visi- 
tor, who proved "earthly" enough to 
contract a bad case of the grippe. Of 
course, this misfortune had to occur a 
week and a half before the presentation 
itself ! 

But there were bright moments, too, 
and many of them. Perhaps our bright- 
est moment came during dress rehear- 
sal, when Kay Ghent arrived with an 
enormous box of thick, creamy, choco- 
late-walnut fudge, sent by her sister 
with the promise of more when, and if, 
we'd "come up and see her some time." 
And a close rival for that moment was 
that other night, when the roads were 
icy and we slid around corners and 
skidded by cross-roads, miraculously 
landing whole at the Ghents' domicile, 
where the cast was to be inspected for 
make-up, and where we were again 
"stuffed" with peanuts (by request) and 
more fudge. 

Excellent and faithful work was done 
by both the cast and the committees, 

and we only hope that next year's 

Christmas play will be as successful as 


Elizabeth Wood — General Manager. 

Class Song 


Our lives are palaces, unexplored, 
With corridors long and many-doored: 
To every door there's but one key, 
That which is held by you or by me. 

Some rooms we cannot see again, 
For childhood joys come not to men; 
But some things of life we have not seen, 
For in some rooms we've not yet been. 

But the rooms which are loveliest, prettiest, 

And those that we love far more than the rest 
Are the rooms of friendship and love, we 

Through which doors we may always go. 

In these last days of our senior year. 
God, give us rooms which will be most dear: 
Give us the rooms of truth and love, 
And send us strength from Thee, above. 

Marjorie Stephens Belcher '34 

Pestilential Personals 

Write personals and "GET RICH QUICK." 
to keep their names out of 

Doc Goodwin doesn't want his name 
mentioned — we're always ready to ac- 

Tarzan Burns is stepping into the 
limelight ; he gets his haircuts from our 
women barbers, Betty Mordt and Helen 

Here's a secret. If you want to im- 
prove your voice, sing in front of a 
mirror. Alton claims he's getting good 

Roberto Martini, our young scientist, 
has discovered a new P. K. Pearl gum 
among the Freshmen. 

Cheer up, Brad. Lois will be a Sopho- 
more next year. 

We suggest that Shirley have the seat 
raised in her car since the three pillows 
that she sits on while driving are begin- 
ning to wear out. 

A correspondent suggests that Guer- 
ra move to 79 Spooner Street. Why 
don't cha, Andy? 

We wanna know. Does Professor 
pay Barbara rent for living in the 

'Tis said that Bill keeps Mordt com- 

Rock is still training on a Camel. 

Phyllis Ryan doesn't sound bad at all. 

— All the Seniors seem to be offering bribes 
this column, — ■- Stew Bad. 

Why don't Givens and Volta flip a 
coin about this girl Gilda? 

Has Clark been getting letters from 
Peggy Cameron in Weymouth? 

Bertha Bouchard must have settled 
down. She's all through with her mov- 
ing Van. 

Lucy seems to have overcome Dun- 
ham's bashfulness. Good work, Lucy. 

Have you made up your mind yet, 
Elizabeth? (Frank, Lindy, Mike, Alton, 
Bud, Gordon, Frenchy, Oliver). Now 
which ? 

Chaplin's Taxi Service seems to be 
prospering. Keep it up, Barbara. 

Dot Perkins, the actress, has the 
peculiar habit of winking when speak- 
ing to a person. She can't control that 

Annie doesn't live here any more. 
The blond Duchess has moved in, says 
Bill Mac. 

This is station WHDH. Our next 
number will be, "I Just Couldn't Take 
It, Baby," sung by Paul Warnsman, the 
romantic singer. 

Lindy has been having a hard time 
deciding whether it is going to be 
Lena or Margie Tracy. I don't blame 



The girls are now writing books for a 
new library. They are: 
How to Roast a Chicken, 

By Mary DeCost 
I EMMA Redhead, By E. Paul 

How Not to Grow, By Shirley Dutton 
It's Tuf (ts) to be Famous, 

By Jeannette Martin 
Me and My Shadow, 

By E. Wood and M. Minott 
The Fourth and Seventh Dance, 

By Once Again 
The Illuminated Cemetery, 

By Special Request 
Tillie, The Queen of Hickville, 

By Wouldn't Cha Like Ta No 
Florence is getting her license. That's 
because she's going to buy a dog. 

Has something happened to Jean- 
nette? She does not seek the shelter of 
room 12 since Gilbert graduated. We 
feel lost without her cheery voice. 

Why did Charley (Carver) have to 
step in, Janet? Did someone else dis- 
appoint you? 

If Fat should get a little more ser- 
ious, there might be a wedding on Oak 

MISS Elizabeth Ryan has made a 
special request in asking us to mention 
that her name is NOT Lizzie. 

Thankful are they whose names are 
not mentioned in this column. Not that 
there is nothing to write about them; 
it may be that the incidents are too ob- 

Carl Mark My Word 

Left to right (first row) : Ruth Murphy, Robert Martin, Elizabeth Wood, Warren 
Sampson; (second row): Gilbert Andrews, Dorothy Perkins, William MacPhail 


The senior class play, "The Trysting 
Place" by Booth Tarkington, given on 
Friday evening, April 6, 1934, was en- 
thusiastically received by an exception- 
ally appreciative audience which filled 
to overflowing the upper hall in the Me- 
morial Building. 

The trysting place proved to be in the 
lounge of a country hotel — "the only 
quiet place in the hotel." The cast (in 
the order of its appearance) was : 
Mrs. Curtis, a widow of 25 years — 

Ruth Murphy 
Lancelot Briggs, a boy obviously un- 
der 20 — Robert Martin 
Mrs. Briggs, his sister, a young girl of 
about 20— Elizabeth Wood 

Rupert Smith, the young man — War- 
ren Sampson 
Mr. Ingolsby — Gilbert Andrews and 
The Mysterious Voice — William Mac- 

The general committee in charge of 
the Senior Project was Lawrence Bon- 
giovanni (chairman), Katherine Ghent. 
Elizabeth Wood, Carlo Guidoboni, and 
Thomas Roncarati. 

The ticket-selling campaign was led 
by Marjorie Belcher and Eleanor Brad- 
ford. The properties were in charge of 
Miss Charlotte Brown, a member of 
the faculty, with assistants, Harry 
Young, Jeannette Martin, William 
Brewster, Joseph Sayre, and Josephine 
Continued on page 55 




"Mugs" Mullaney, six feet tall, half 
as wide, and as thick as a London fog, 
was boss of the McCutcheon lumber 
camps. For his tonnage of bone and 
muscle, he was as, gentle as a ten-year- 
old tiger cub. (In other words, mean 
and ornery.) As- a bully, he had no 
equal. Compared with him, Nero and 
Rasputin were babes in arms, while 
Attila and Genghis Khan were sissies. 

Now to get on with the story. 

One brisk, frosty morning in late 
October a new arrival made his ap- 
pearance in camp, a "city feller" to take 
the place of the recently deceased 
Chinese cook. 

It seemed that this new "hash-sling- 
er," as he was called, had a very limited 
knowledge of the culinary art. In fact, 
his only accomplishment was baked 

For the past few months the lumber- 
jacks had been fed nothing but rice 
(without raisins) and a filthy mess 
called chop suey. No one would even 
hazard a guess as to what it contained, 
but one of the fellows asserted that he 
was about to take a spoonful of the ob- 
noxious mess when a half-drowned 
snail emerged from the murky black- 
ness and feebly crawled upon a piece of 
half-peeled potato, rolling his eyes in 
such a mournful manner that the poor 
fellow had to leave the table. He felt a 
peculiar rumbling sensation in his 
stomach for the rest of the day and 
swore never to eat Chinese concoctions 

Ah! beans, there was a man's dish. 
A heaping plateful of golden-brown, 
mealy goodness, smeared with thick, 
sticky, black molasses. 

Sick of the Chinese "slumgullion," 
the lumber men consumed huge quan- 
tities of beans, and became encouraged 
by the change in fare. 

Beans were served three times a day 
for the first week, second week, third 
week, and for weeks and weeks after- 
wards. Beans for breakfast, beans for 
dinner, and for supper, BEANS! 

The situation became desperate. 
The men would have! gladly gone back 
to rice, chop suey, and spinach. Yes, 
even spinach would have been welcomed 
as a change from the ubiquitous bean ! 

Mullaney, hearing the grumblings of 
revolt among his men, stopped in at the 
cook house (or bean factory) late one 
afternoon to see what he could do. 

As his massive bulk thundered 
through the door, his shoulders scraped 
on both sides. The cook was standing 
in front of the open oven stirring beans, 
the odor of which permeated the room. 
By this time, most of the men could not 
endure the sight of beans, and the odor 
nauseated even "Mugs," the bull of the 
lumber camps. He flung himself into a 
chair which creaked submissively and 
nearly collapsed under his great weight. 

"Whew !" he exclaimed, whipping out 
a big red handkerchief as large as a cat- 
boat sail and mopping his huge, pers- 
piring cranial frontage which stood out 
like the chalk cliffs of Dover, "more 

"Yes, meekly replied the cook with 
an air of utter dejectedness that would 
have wrung a salty tear from Momus, 
"beans were the only supplies we re- 
ceived before the heavy snows, an' 
beans we'll eat 'til the spring thaw." 

"Mugs" Mullaney, summoning his 
last ounce of strength, staggered to his 
feet and threw up a window. He re- 
mained hanging out of the window 
with his tongue lolling from the corner 
of his mouth for the best part of an 
hour. When he had recovered suffici- 
ently, he pulled his head out of the win- 
dow, wiped his massive brow again, and 
lumbered off toward his cabin. 

Well, the bean diet lasted for five 
months and would probably have lasted 
for five more had not Mullaney chanced 
to meander past the cook house one eve- 
ning just as the tempting odor of steak 
and onions was being wafted into the 
crisp, night air. 

He halted, turned, directed his steps 
to the window of the cook house, and 
peered in. The sight that met his eyes 
must have enraged him, for he pulled 



off his cap, threw it to the ground, and 
trampled upon it. Then, after flexing 
his biceps so hard that the monstrous, 
knotted muscles split the sleeves of his 
leather jacket wide open, he clenched 
his mighty paws so that each knuckle 
stood out like a baseball, only twice as 
hard; and, rushing to the door, with 
one mighty heave wrenched it off its 
hinges and charged into the room. 

There, seated across the room, was 
the cook in all his splendor, with a spot- 
less, snow-white napkin tucked under 
his chin, spreading a freshly-cooked, 
big, juicy steak (barely discernible un- 
nerneath the lavish garnishing of 
onion) with a lump of butter about the 
size of a big brown egg. 

The facial expression, one of peace 
and extreme contentment, vanished, 
and one of horror, — of ghastly horror, 
took its place. 

Slowly he pushed back his chair and 
tugged at his napkiin, his eyes fixed up- 
on those of the crazed lumberjack, who 
sucked in his breath like an enraged go- 
rilla and advanced, step by step, toward 
his victim. 

The tempting odor of delicious steak 
smothered in onions did not deter him. 
The hapless cook backed into the cor- 
ner by the stove, followed by the fiend. 
Seizing one of the red hot stove covers 
by the holder, the "hash slinger" hurled 
it. Mullaney, the iron man, caught it, 
dashed it through the window, advanc- 
ing again, his massive hands opening 
and closing like the business end of a 
steam shovel. 

The cook, as a last hope, snatched the 
huge kettel of beans from the oven and 
dumped it over the head of the infuri- 
ated wood cutter, fastening the handle 
down under his granite chin. "Mugs" 
Mullaney, man mountain of the lumber 
camps, passed out like school children 
after receiving their diplomas. 

When he came to, some days later, he 
was informed of the contents of a letter 
found in the belongings of the cook, 
who had escaped. 

The letter, addressed to the cook, 
read : — 

"Received your shipment of beef and 
will send immediately (if not sooner) 
500 lbs. of beans. The men can work 
just as well on beans as on beef, and 
think of all the money you save ! 

"If you get another supply of beef 
intended for the lumber camp, I will 
gladly exchange it for beans and a rea- 

sonable cash bonus for your oivn 
pocket ..." 

There is a motley group of Maine 
lumbermen searching the world over 
for a scoundrel who fed human beings 
beans for breakfast, BEANS for dinner, 
and for supper, — BEANS ! Week in, 
and week out, — beans! beans! beans! 
And still more beans! ! ! 

Francis Trask '34 


Upon the steps of time an old man sat; 
And in his skinny hands, he held 
His whole life's treasure. 

For more than four score year and ten 

He had lived; and tho' his hair was snowy 

He still loved life. 

His wrinkled brow and trembling limbs 
Were tokens of his passing life — 
And old age held him fast. 

And what had he from all those years — ■ 
A mighty store of hoarded gold? 
Nay — treasures more precious far! 

The memories of a lifetime's work, 
The prayers of many invalids saved, 
And, best of all, of duty well done! 

And so he sat — and was content. 
Tho' ever weaker grew his limbs, 
His heart was ever strong. 

H. Surrey '34 


An old pitcher 

Spilling bayberries from its mouth, 

Its fat body 

Tinted rose from the sun. 

Maple furniture clean, shimmering 

In the light, 

A print or two, 

Roomy chairs and gaily hooked mats. 

An India hanging, 

Mellow blue, green, and yellow, 

With faint tracings of faded pink. 

Many colored backs of books, 

Little china dogs 

And curiously carved figures, 

All such dear, precious things 

I love so well. 

Jeannette Martin '34 


Through the darkness of night 

A torch gleams, 

Making a path of light 

Across the water. 

Ripples slowly creep 

To the shore 

From the foamy wake 

Of the tug. 

Upon the grimy decks 
Strong men, 
Handling the lines, 
Sweat and toil, 
Struggling in the dim light 
Of oil lamps. 

Everywhere are smoky fumes 
And filth. 

Lucy Holmes '35 




One summer evening in the year 1858, 
as the setting sun was turning to flame 
the glassy surface of the Caribbean Sea, 
Captain Thomas Chandler was sitting 
on the deck of his schooner, the Nancy 
Chandler, smoking his pipe peacefully. 

"Molly's havin' quite a tussle with 
that un, ain't she, Cap'n?" remarked 
the fat first mate, Joe Carson. 

"Urn," grunted the captain squinting 
his small, blue eyes and watching the 
large gray and white cat dextrously 
handling a huge, squealing rat with all 
the art of a veteran rodent hunter. "We 
sure got well stacked with rats, if 
nothing else," he went on. "By the way, 
Joe, what became of Molly's kittens?" 

"Sold 'em at Jamaica," replied the 
mate. "The natives* never see any cats 
except the ones that come on ships. 
They never knew they caught rats un- 
til I showed 'em Molly. The place is 
swarmin' with rats so I sold 'em right 
off for about twenty cents apiece. Say, 
Cap'n ! Just happened to think ; I reckon 
we could make — " 

"So do I," interrupted the captain 
quietly, replacing the pipe in his mouth. 

Six months later in Boston harbor, the 
"Nancy Chandler" was being loaded 
with a large cargo, which consisted, be- 
sides quantities of New England ex- 
ports, of exactly 296 feline specimens 
of all sexes, colors, ages, and breeds 
protesting in no uncertain manner at 
this sudden exile. However, Captain 
Chandler was giving brisk orders and 
paying no attention to his unhappy 
cargo or to the jeering onlookers. 

During the fifteen days' journey to 
Jamaica, the ship was a "howlin' bed- 
lam" as Joe Carson described it. *Pipe 
down, you screechin' critters !" he would 
bawl lustily as he dealt out their rations 
of salt fish and water. "Ought to be 
glad you ain't in with them, Molly." 

The cats remained in vigorous good 
health until the last two days of the 
journey when they apparently began to 
tire of their monotonous diet. "All 
petered out, I guess," was the way Joe 
accounted for it. 

Two hours after landing at Jamaica, 
all the cats were disposed of at a profit 
of about $58.00. Joe was gleeful and 
the tall, quiet captain was satisfied. 
However, it was not all smooth sailing. 

The ship remained in port some time 
because of bad weather and because the 
captain had encountered difficulty in 
disposing of the rest of his cargo, con- 

sisting now chiefly of perishable goods, 
at a price high enough to make any 
profit. On the sixth day he received the 
disturbing news that nearly all the cats 
had died, either from the sudden change 
in climate or from the change from the 
diet consisting entirely of salt fish to 
one of rats. Furthermore, the natives, 
believing they had been swindled, were 
furious, and refused to have any deal- 
ings with Captain Chandler. By this 
time the cargo was practically unsal- 
able at any price, and the following day 
the captain directed that it be thrown 

As he watched seven hundred dollars' 
worth of cargo splashing into Kingston 
harbor, Joe remarked gloomily, "Net 

Receipts, $58X0." 

Charles Cooper '35 


Once P. T. Barnum said, "There's a 
sucker born every minute." Granting 
this, we still don't believe enterprising 
companies should take advantage of the 
unsuspecting public by misleading ad- 
vertisements. There are plenty of fair 
ways of advertising through interest- 
contests and radio broadcasts. 

Rarely do we read a magazine or 
paper but we see an article about a 
contest, with grand prizes of automo- 
biles and one hundred dollars, pro- 
moted by some business establishment 
for advertising purposes. A good per- 
centage of these are interesting, worthy 
of entrance,- and fair to all. It is the 
other part of the group that we criti- 

We, ourselves, have had several ex- 
periences along these lines. We no- 
ticed in a daily newspaper a coupon 
from a well-known numismatic com- 
pany offering its rare coin book, giv- 
ing prices and details about coins upon 
receiving four cents in stamps for post- 
age. In return we received a folder of 
four pages with very brief informa- 
tion, and an order blank for the real 
book, which we thought we were get- 
ting before, at the price of one dollar. 
There was nothing we could do. 

Some companies sponsor guessing 
contests. The person who sends in 
three labels from the product and 
guesses the contest correctly, wins one 
hundred dollars, while the person who 
sends in only one label gets less than 
one hundred dollars. 

Other concerns offer money and prizes 
for a name for their new product. This 



contest is fair on the surface, but one 
can discover that, if he sends in one 
name, he has a chance of one out of 
probably ten thousand. Only one prize 
is awarded, the companies pick the 
winning name, and the label of the 
product must be sent in. 

We do not wish to ban all contests and 
advertising of this sort, but people, 
when deceived by one advertisement, 
will be wary of another which is really 
reliable, and there are many giving 
suitable and worthwhile prizes with no 
tricky words and phrases. 

We believe that, if tricky and unfair 
advertisements are eliminated, it will 
mean more business for reliable con- 
cerns and pleasure to the customers. 

Harvey Barke '34 


Dimly it flickered, as if it were mak- 
ing one feeble effort to regain its form- 
er radiance. Then the gas light at the 
farthest end of the deserted street, suc- 
cumbed to the soothing stillness and 
burned in a dim, evil glass. 

Fascinated I walked slowly down the 
street. An ethereal white mist settled 
over the worn pavement and forlorn 
brownstone buildings. My fancy stray- 
ed. Wonderingly I tried to peer with 
my mind beyond the heavily-bolted 
doors and the shaded windows. 

Suddenly the buildings were not for- 
lorn but evil, seeming to harbor all the 
fiends from the bowels of the earth. 
Faintly, gradually growing louder, a 
plaintive cry of a nocturnal bird pierced 
my thoughts. I was afraid ! The mist 
closing in on me, stifling my soul as it 
did the lights, the brownstone buildings 
so cold, unfriendly, — had I unmeaningly 
stumbled upon a place not meant for 
human beings ! Swishing sounds, so 
soft, yet so distinct crept into my ears. 
Cold, soul-freezing breezes fanned my 
face and body. In a mad frenzy of pro- 
found fear I flung out my arms to rid 
myself of those things, but I merely 
fed the flame of their desire to torture 
such intruders as I. Running, stum- 
bling, babbling, I fled to my room. 

There was my only weapon, the box ! 
With trembling fingers I formed a pel- 
let from the powder in the box, heated 
it over my oil burner, and then put it 
into my pipe. Once, twice, I inhaled the 
soothing fumes and once again I was 
safe, alone with my dreams of beautiful 

Ruth Murphy '34 


Had you studied a large map of Al- 
sace-Lorraine as it was before the 
Franco-Prussian War, you would have 
found a small village called Roppveiler 
situated almost on the boundary line 
between France and Germany. It was a 
friendly little town with its time-hon- 
ored thatch-roofed cottages nestled in 
the valleys. The home of the Burgom- 
eister was set apart from the rest and 
befitted his station. Hooverbrunner, a 
large brook, ran through the center of 
the hamlet, and on sunny days the vil- 
lage women were wont to wash their 
clothes there with much chatter and 
song. Many of them had sons of 
eighteen or twenty, who were serving in 
the regular army, for all able-bodied 
youths were compelled to serve for a 
period of two years. These village wo- 
men often proudly discussed letters 
they had received from their boys as 
they washed and scrubbed their clothes 
clean and white on the stones in the 

On fair days the younger boys tended 
the cattle as they grazed upon the 
grassy slopes of the hill, and the village 
maids often accompanied them. No 
puny pale girls were these. They were 
strong, healthy peasants with clear, 
bright eyes, and long braids of hair 
flung over their shoulders, and they 
wore wooden shoes called schlapper. 
They were used to work and hard work 
it was, too. Sometimes they labored all 
day in the fields at back-breaking toil, 
and thus they developed strong bodies. 
No, these were no fragile, dainty, por- 
celain shepherdesses. They were of the 
earth and proud of it. 

Everyone in Roppvieler spoke Ger- 
man, had German names and German 
customs, and did business in the neigh- 
boring German cities. Indeed, few of 
the people in the hamlet knew whether 
they were French or German citizens, 
and they cared less — until the war came. 

And with the war came seething 
times. With the advent of the Franco- 
Prussian conflict came also the baring 
of the fierce hatred which the people of 
France bore the Prussians, and the Lot- 
tringen, natives of Lorraine, suddenly 
found a devotion and loyalty that they 
owed to France. The villagers were 
^ght to look upon the Germans across 
the border who had been friends and 
business associates, as hated enemies. 
Prussian soldiers spread terror by in- 
quiring at each house, "Are there any 



French soldiers in here?" One couldn't 
lie to those fellows ! The village school- 
master created a panic by writing on 
the black-board, 

"Der Bismark von Bollen, 
Sol der Teufel hollen." 
which meant simply, that as for Bis- 
mark, the devil could have him. Un- 
complimentary things were also said 
about the Koenig of Prussia. The vil- 
lagers turned their cows, pigs, and goats 
loose to roam in the woods, for, if they 
were left in the sheds, they would be 
commandeered by the marauding ene- 

Young men excited, and suddenly 
proud to fight for "that scrap of silk," 
the French flag, caused their mothers 
heartbreak and misery by straightway 
enlisting. Youths who had just re- 
turned from military duty immediately 
signed up to go to war. Eventually, 
they argued with their mothers, they 
would be drafted. It was far better to 
go at ;he beginning and choose the best 
branc 1 of the service. 

Johann Wolff didn't enlist. As the 
sole support of his widowed mother and 
younger brothers and sister, he was ex- 
empt from service, and allowed to carry 
on his business. 

A personable young man of twenty- 
two, he had already made a success of 
the contracting business left him by his 
father. Every damsel in the village 
looked at Johann with her heart in her 
eyes, and who could blame the girls ? He 
was six feet tall with snapping black 
eyes, curly black hair, and a flashing 
white smile. When Johann entered a 
room, he dominated it. The strong line 
of his jaw spoke of strength of charac- 
ter and a certain stubborness. His 
lithe, active body bespoke the keynote 
of the Wolff family, "If I rest, I rust." 

Now the pretty daughter of the rich 
Burgomeister had set her cap for 
Johann, but that young man was not 
ready to be caught either by poor maid- 
en or rich. Furthermore, he intended to 
do his own choosing. 

Frau Wolff thanked God daily for let- 
ting her keep her son at home, but daily 
he grew restless. He watched his young 
friends march off to war, trim in their 
smart uniforms, youthfully straight, 
formed into singing companies with a 
band at their head and flags flying over 
them. He never seemed to see, aa his 
mother did, the hay-carts which went 
through the streets of the village, piled 
high with the dead and wounded, with 

blood seeping through the straw and 
dripping on the streets below. He 
seemed unmindful of his former school- 
mates, once so blithe and strong and 
brave; now sodden, limp bundles cov- 
Continued on Page 54 


My friend, Dick Warren, having be- 
come infatuated with country life, sur- 
prised us all by purchasing an old, 
rambling house, dating back to Revo- 
lutionary times. He was very anxious 
for me to inspect and approve it so I 
finally agreed to spend the week-end 
with him. It was late afternoon when 
we arrived at the house and I was im- 
pressed at once with its unusual situ- 
ation. It stood surrounded by a thick 
grove of evergreens, and in the dim 
light of late afternoon it looked far 
from cheerful. 

There was just time to inspect the 
house before our evening meal, and 
after eating, we sat a long time, chat- 
ting over our pipes. I was tired and 
glad to go to bed at an early hour. I 
immediately fell into a deep sleep from 
which I was aroused by something. 
Fearful, I sat up in bed and listened. 
I heard unmistakable groans and, 
springing from the bed, I rushed to the 
window. Standing by a tree was a dim, 
white figure which seemed to beckon 
and wave its arms. The figure disap- 
peared, and, partly persuading myself 
that it was the effect of a too hearty 
dinner, I finally slept. 

. When I next awoke, the sun was shin- 
ing brightly, and I felt convinced that 
what I had seen had been merely a bad 
dream. After spending a pleasant week- 
end with my friend, I returned to town. 
A short time later, I received a letter 
from Dick in which he wrote as follows : 
"A curious and rather startling 
thing happened the other day. I 
had some workmen plowing a new 
garden here. They accidentally 
uncovered an old stone well, and it 
occurred to me to have it cleaned 
out and restored. After some hard 
work they reached the bottom, 
where, to their horror, they found 
a skeleton with a rusty hatchet em- 
bedded in its skull. I have heard 
some stories of strange happenings 
in this house ..." 
As a rule I am not superstitious, but 
now I am wondering whether I had in- 
digestion or whether I saw a ghost. 

John Chapman '35 



Sophomore Poetry Page 


Haunting fragrance — 
Poignant beauty; 
Modestly spreading 
Your emerald skirts 
Over the mossy rocks, 
Slyly you peep at me, 
A faint blush creeping 
Into your milky- white cheeks; 
Shyly you flaunt 
Your fragile loveliness, 
O queen of the wood! 
Haunting fragrance — 
Poignant beauty — 
Tiny waxen heads 
Tenderly lying 
On the rich moist earth — 

Alba Martinelli '36 


The mist creeps in 

While the world is sleeping; 

Its ghostly shape 

Is everywhere, 

It leaves its dewdrops 

On gay flower petals 

Emitting fragrance 

Elusive and rare; 

When the sun deeply yawning 

Shows dawn of the morning, 

The mist must retreat 

To its home by the sea, 

Where the seagulls are screaming; 

But while I am dreaming 

It comes back again 

Awakening me. 

Dorothy Perkins '36 


A thousand 

Silvery wands touch 

The slumbering 


Taking away all ugliness, 


Only sheer beauty; 

Making a shimmering 

Golden path across 

The rippling 


Of the sea. 

Elizabeth Ryan '36 


The waves, 

Fitfully, furiously, 

Gnaw at tha beach; 
Gigantic claws 


Tear at boulders 

Threatening to 
Devour all. 

Jean Whiting '36 




Just because it has been told that 
way for years the shallow, numb minds 
of the average public accept it as true. 
But I am here to tell you that the ac- 
cepted tradition concerning Sir Walter 
Raleigh, the cloak, and Queen Elizabeth 
is erroneous. In the first place, there 
was no cloak. Raleigh had sold it for 
a few pence, as he had all his other pos- 
sessions. And, in the second place, if 
he had been in possession of a cloak, 
there would have been no puddle for 
him to lay it across, because it was mid- 
winter, the most biting in years, and 
anything that might have been a puddle 
was a sheet of ice. Don't you see how 
impossible the action of the old tale 
would have been? Now — this is what 
really happened: 

A biting, shrieking blast of icy win- 
ter wind tore madly down the ice- 
coated streets of London, sending in its 
wake billows of soft snow. Ruthlessly 
it gripped the scurrying figure of a 
man. Tearing his scanty garments 
from the protective clutch of blue 
hands, it sent them flapping wildly. 
In defiance, the shoulders became more 
hunched and hands dug more deeply 
into empty pockets. Raleigh fairly flew 
along with the aid of the wind, unwel- 
come as it was. And in an effort to 
show his disregard of the elements, he 
puckered cracked lips and tried to force 
a whistle from a frozen throat. In his 
mind like a flame burned knowledge of 
a warm inn, a savory dinner, and a 
fresh bed, and last and most strange, 
actual credit. And, it was to this place 
he made his perilous way. 

'Twas at the corner of Fleet Street 
and Dowgate Hill that the frozen gal- 
lant was shocked from his reverie on 
finding himself at the edge of a large 
sheet of ice which extended to, and be- 
yond, the four houses that cornered the 
intersection. While the ice managed to 
endure the scrutiny of the young man, 
who, with dubious expression, contem- 
plated the risk of striding boldly over 
the treacherous glass, another group 
approached from the opposite direc- 

This day, of all uninviting London 
days, Queen Elizabeth had chosen to 
take a walk. Of course, her court had 
hotly opposed such a plan, but opposi- 
tion serves only to kindle a smouldering 
will into a most rousing flame of action. 

Stopping at the edge of the frozen 
waste, she waited while her attendants 

with expressions of most intense pain, 
pondered in their minds the one ques- 
tion — how to transport her highness 
across the ice. They gathered together 
in conference in groups of three and 
four. Her highness, meanwhile, with 
arms akimbo, tapped a befurred foot, 
and regarded the sky with cold disdain. 
The humor of the situation immediate- 
ly presented itself to Raleigh. Evident- 
ly a young noblewoman, unwilling to 
tread upon the ice alone, was so unfor- 
tunate as to have in her employ ser- 
vants too stupid to do anything about 
it. With a hearty Cossack roar, he 
boldly strode across to her, hesitating 
only to marvel at his newly-found sense 
of equilibruim, and, before the dumb- 
founded lady could speak, he picked her 
up in two strong arms and started to 
retrace his steps. Half the distance 
having been traversed, the Queen and 
her company gained their senses sim- 
ultaneously, the latter closing gaping 
mouths and joining in pursuit, and the 
former kicking with such wild vigor, 
that she was of necessity quickly dis- 
posed of under one of Raleigh's arms: 
her head bobbing in front and her feet 
thrashing wildly in back. Using his 
free arm as a balance, Raleigh managed 
to keep both of them from catastrophe. 
On reaching the other side, he righted 
his burden, and stood before her await- 
ing he knew not what. His suspense 
did not endure long, for the Queen, with 
flushed face and clothes slightly in dis- 
array, gained a firm footing on the 
ground, and, completing an are with 
her right arm, laid a red welt across the 
face of her rescuer. 

That, readers, was a shock to Raleigh 
as well as to you, but from it he soon re- 
covered. And so, with a most engaging 
smile and a courtly bow, enhanced by 
a sweep of his sadly befeathered hat, 
Raleigh turned and was lost from sight 
around a corner. A cold gust of wind 
fanned the Queen's hot cheeks, and, as 
it passed, carried with it all unpleasant 
thoughts. The pursuers, it may be 
well to divulge, in an attempt to dupli- 
cate the act of the pursued, met with 
disaster, and sat in a sorry heap not 
more than half way across the ice. 
Elizabeth regarded them in quiet 
amusement. Her feelings were fast 
slipping from her control and, looking 
in the direction of Raleigh's flight, 
she gave way and permitted herself to 
laugh more heartily than she had done 
in years. She recovered with a start, 



and, beckoning her attendants to fol- 
low, the Queen, no longer walking, but, 
in pursuit, rounded the same corner as 
had Raleigh. 

Dorothy Rose Perkins '34 


We usually: regard crying as an un- 
controllable expression of emotion, but, 
skillfully exercised, it is one of wo- 
men's greatest weapons. It is neces- 
sary, however, to be able to cry at will. 

Tears on tap is not the impossibility 
that many people think it is. A famous 
motion picture actress boasts that she 
has never had to use glycerine tears in 
her twenty years of stardom. Thinking 
of some sorrow of the past will usually 
cause the lachrymal moisture to appear. 

When beguiling smiles and endearing 
words have no effect on an obstinate 
male, tears will shatter his obduracy to 
bits. But they are a weapon which 
must be used discreetly. Here are a 
few helpful pointers: 

1. Have a wee, lacy hankie handy, 
which you can flutter helplessly. 

2. Do not cry profusely. Loud sobs 
destroy all the glamor of weeping. Very 
few tears, no more than seven, are 
enough; just enough to moisten the eye- 
lashes. (Long, sweeping lashes are 
quite necessary to create the proper 

A bit of soliloquizing may work to 
your advantage at this point. Some- 
thing like this: 

"All I'm asking you for is an or- 
dinary ermine wrap — and you 
won't give me it. After all, I do 
need one — you can't expect me to 
go out with just an evening dress 
on — why, I'd catch cold and die — 
but I guess you wouldn't mind that 
- — you'd be glad you wouldn't have 
to support me any longer." Sniff, 

At this point he will put a protective 
arm around your shoulders, help you 
dry your tears, and promise you any- 
thing your heart desires. 

Caution : Do not assume a trium- 
phant attitude as he hands you the 
check. Just smile sweetly, which will 
make him think of sunshine after an 
April shower. At this point gratitude 
may be shown by endearing words and 
loving demonstrations of affection. 

And now, lest we arouse the wrath 
of the stronger sex, we humbly retire. 

Laura Lamborghini '34 

Given the thought, "THIS IS THE END," the 
following, in the opinion of the editors, were 
the best interpretations submitted by members 
of the Senior Class: 


The actress feels she's given her part 
Not all that's worthy of her art, 
And, sighing, says deep in her heart, 
"This is the end!" 

The broker who has lost his all 
In the last stock-market fall, 
When his proud name is damned, will call, 
"This is the end!" 

The mother who has lost her child, 
Unwilling to be reconciled, 
Cries from her soul with anguish wild, 
"This is the end!" 

The man who's hunting for a job, 
Following the wandering, homeless mob, 
Thinks, while he's choking back a sob, 
"This is the end!" 

Are these the ends toward which we're driven? 
Are these the goals for which we've striven? 
Should we think when ill-luck is given, 

"This is the end?" 
For is there not some higher fate, 

Some greater end for which we wait? 
For all these trials, however great, 
Are not the end! 

Marjorie S. Belcher '34 


The little man of ten or twelve 

Has failed to pass 

In school. 

He bends his curly head 

In pain — so deep 

He needs must think — 

"This is the end, — 

I wish that I 

Were dead!" 

The business man in stocks and bonds, — 

His money and position 

Swept away — 

His business gone, 

Looks up to heaven 

With searching eyes, — 

"This is the end, 

Death would be sweeter, far, 

Than this!" 

A crushed mortal — groping for understanding 

Kneels o'er the grave 

Of loved one — 

Dearer, far, than Life. 

"Dear God, 

Why did you bring me this 

Great sorrow? 

It is the end — 

I cannot now go on." 

The plaintive man — lies on his bed — 

Sick and feeble, 

Slipping fast away. 

Greedily he guards the every beat 

Of his now faltering 


"Oh, God, I feel the chill of Death, 

My life is finished — 

This is the end." 

.And yet — 

It is only the Beginning. 

Elizabeth Wood '34 



Left to right (first row) : Marjorie Cantoni, Laura Lamborghini, Josephine 
Montanari, Alyce Bussolari, Mary Riley; (second row) : Jeannette Martin, Marjorie 
Belcher, William Brewster, president; Miss Charlotte Brown, faculty sponsor; Robert 
Martin, Ruth Buttner, Eliabeth Wood, Shirley Dutton; (third row) : Anna Goldbergh, 
Lucy Holmes, Florence Armstrong, George Farnell, Ralph Goodwin, Carlo Guidoboni, 
Leroy Schreiber, Barbara Mellor, Flora Fortini 

Left to right (first row) : Augusta Cappella, Alba Martinelli, Mary Bodell, Florence 
Armstrong, Shirley Dutton, Charles Cooper, Harvey Barke; (second row): Laura 
Lamborghini, Jeannette Martin, Marjorie Belcher, Gilbert Andrews, William Mac- 
Phail, Robert Martin, Marion McGinnis, Lucy Holmes 




Characters : 

Henry — a farm hand and country 

Alcibiades Throckmorton — owner of 
the Trockmorton homestead, a hu- 
morous old codger 
Belinda Throckmorton — his wife 
Lucrezia Abigail Throckmorton — 

their daughter 
Silas Sourpuss — an unscrupulous 
Scene : 

The living room of the old Throck- 
morton homestead. Brown and rusted 
cat o' nine tails hang behind pictures of 
bewhiskered uncles and sour faces of 
great aunts. A thick red carpet covers 
the floor, and all the furniture sug- 
gests the "gay nineties." It is winter 
and a light snow is falling. 
Act One 
Belinda enters with a carpet-sweeper 
and begins cleaning the thick red car- 

Belinda: Such dirt, such dirt! If Al- 
cibiades would only learn to take off 
his number sevens out in the entry! 
Dear me! (Alcibiades enters.) 
Alcibiades: (Huskily with a lump in 
his throat) Well, today's the day 
when old Silas Sourpuss forecloses on 
our mortgage and we'll be put out in 
the cold to freeze to death. Brr! I'd 
rather die eating mince pie. 
Belinda : How can you joke when that 
old skinflint Silas Sourpuss is to have 
us indisposed tonight? 
Alcibiades: Dispossessed is the word 
you want, Belindy dear, but I can't 
do anything about it. I'm broke ! 
Oh, Henry! 

(He turns his pockets inside out.) 
(Lucrezia Abigail enters running, 

carrying a letter.) 
Lucrezia : Look ! Look ! A letter from 
rich Uncle Snodgrass Pharbenphin- 
son — he is coming to visit us tomor- 
row. Surely he will lend us the cart- 
wheels (silver dollars) to pay old 
Sourpuss ! 
Alcibiades: (Humming an old Scotch 
air) The cartwheels are coming, 
hurrah ! hurrah ! 

Belinda: Yes, but Silas will demand 
his old money tonight. What shall 
we do to stall him off 'til tomorrow? 
We haven't a cent. 

Alcibiades: Well, I could catch him a 
skunk for a scent. (Chuckles, slaps 
his thigh, bites off a chew of "Stand- 
ard Navy," and swabs it around on 

his toothless gums.) (A knock at the 

Lucrezia: I'll go. (Opens the door) 
Oh, come in, Silas Sourpuss. You 
might as well, for this house is as 
good as yours now. (sniff! sniff!) 

Silas: (Entering) Heh, heh, heh. I 
am soon to become the owner of this 
fine piece of property, the old Throck- 
morton homestead. You haven't the 
money? (Rubs has hands) 

Alcibiades: The only thing I'd ever 
give you is a dirty look! (Chuckles 
and vigorously swabs his "Standard 
Navy around) Say, Belindy, why 
did you throw my old spittoon out? I 
miss it. 

Belinda: You always used to miss it 
when it was here. 

Silas: Stop this bantering. Either I 
have the mortgage money or out you 
go into the cold. Heh ! Heh ! Heh ! 

Belinda: Oh, please, Silas Sourpuss, 
give us until tomorrow when Uncle 
Snoddy comes. He will furnish the 
money ! 

Silas: No, a thousand times no! Will 
you leave or must I call the sheriff? 
(A knocking at the door) 

Alcibiades: Who can that be? 

Belinda : That must be Henry calling 
on our daughter. Go let him in, Lu- 

Silas : I won't have that impertinent 
upstart in my house! 

Alicibiades: (In an angry tone) This 
house isn't yours yet, Silas Sourpuss. 
Invite him in, Lucrezia! 

Lucrezia : (opening door) Come in, 

Henry. I'm afraid you can't stay 

long, though, — we are going to be 

ejected by that monster over there, 

(Pointing to Silas) 

Hanry: Why, you old nickle-nurser, 
turning these helpless old folks out 
into the cold, cruel world! 

Silas: Heh, heh, heh! Well, I want 
to be alone. Will you please leave? 

Henry: Silas, I always knew you had 
a hard heart and would foreclose so 
I brought along my whole life's sav- 
ings to keep this family from such 
a cruel fate! 

Lucrezia: Bravo! You tell 'im. 

Henry: (Continuing) Can you change 
a thousand dollar bill? 

Silas: You haven't got a thousand bill. 
In fact, you've never even seen one ! 

Henry: Look at this. (Drawing out a 
greenback) Look at this, look at 
the number in the corner. 



Silas: Coises, foiled, a thousand dol- 
lar bill. I'll come back tomorrow with 
some change. (Goes out slamming 

Alcibiades: Saved, by cracky! 

Belinda: Henry, where did you ever 
get so much money? You haven't 
worked long enough to save up all 

Lucrezia: (Going over to Henry and 
putting arm around him) Henry, how 
did you do it? 

Henry: Well, you see my gran-pappy 
fit at Chattanooga and got this off'n 
a Rebel soldier. (Gives Alcibiades 
the thousand dollar bill) 

Alcibiades : Say, this is only an old 
Civil War Confederate bill and by 
cracky! it isn't even worth a collar- 
button and a glass of water. Boy! 
you certainly put one over on that 
old penny-pincher ! 

Belinda: Uncle Snodgrass will be here 
tomorrow and we'll be saved ! 

Alcibiades : Hurrah ! 

Lucrezia: (Snuggling up clooser to 
her hero) Oh, Henry ! 


Francis Trask '34 


Oh, for a nimble needle huge, 
And a slim thread strong and true, 
And power to wield it mightily, 
To go back a year or two. 

I'd visit the cave man in his haunts, 
And run from the dinosaur, 
And watch the battle of centuries — 
The triumph of hand over claw. 

Prom Greece to Rome and the Orient, 
Into the tombs of kings I'd look, 
And ask great men of every age 
To write in my autograph book. 

I'd witness the battle of Marathon, 

Watch Caesar killed by his foes, 

For I'd know all the dates from my history book 

And get a front seat for the shows. 

And when all my travels are over and done 

Though all places I've not seen yet, 

I'd gladly return to dear '34 

And teach ancient hist'ry, you bet! 

G. Farnell 34 


Oh, for 1 some magic power of human mind 
To grasp and hold the beauty of this night, 
To cherish deep within our inner soul 
The sight of moonlight flooding misty fields, 
The song of restless ocean on the shore. 
The whispering softness of the evening wind, — 
For beauty such as this must be short-lived; 
The' moon descends, the night too soon is o'er, 
And we are left with but a radiant memory. 
John Anderson '34 


The letters that were never written! 
Sometimes how fortunate it is — some- 
times how tragic — that we didn't write 
those letters that we meant so much to 

The letter that we mean to write to 
the gas company about that terrible bill 
of ours — we know it was too high. No 
gas bill could ever be so high — it wasn't 
natural. In the burning moment when 
we first received it, we composed an in- 
dignant, a scathing letter to the com- 
pany — bidding them get the extra 
charge if they could and giving an elo- 
quent description of exactly what we 
thought of them. But we never sent it. 
The heated indignation passed and, we 
made out the check like a docile little 
lamb and forwarded it promptly. Was 
that tragic — or fortunate ? 

The letter to the income tax collec- 
tor — poor man ! We lay in our beds the 
night we finished adding up what we 
owed the government and wrote in our 
minds a masterpiece of literature. The 
government would have been petrified 
by the frigidity of it, if it had ever re- 
ceived that letter. But it didn't. We 
just sent in our check, and timidly wor- 
ried for fear the discovery would be 
made that it was a bit late. 

The "sorry" letter — the one that be- 
gins "I was to blame" — the unborn let- 
ter that might have smoothed the path 
and prevented much trouble and heart- 
ache. Tragic — but it was never writ- 
ten, either. 

The hundreds of letters that we 
meant to write during our vacations! 
We pictured them so clearly in our 
minds — a suitable, witty message for 
each of our friends and family — all 
bringing a glow of satisfaction and tak- 
ing a great load off our mind. But we 
never did send them. 

THE letter, a ghost-letter, that comes 
to us in the middle of the night and 
makes us miserable — the letter we 
longed to write to someone we really 
thought of — the kind, sweet letter that 
someone wanted. This is the letter we 
put off (but knew every word of it 
by heart, so often had we penned it in 
our mind) and did not write, — the let- 
ter that cannot now be written because 
it is too late! 

How much trouble can be caused by 
a few penned lines — yet how much joy 
and satisfaction! 

Elizabeth Wood '34 




When the bell rang, announcing the 
beginning of period 1 in M. H. S., one 
Monday morning, several students, who 
were so unfortunate as to have a study 
period at that time, came noisily into 
the study hall and took their places. 
Bill and John, sitting at the back of the 
room near a radiator and several win- 
dows, finally selected large blue books 
and dejectedly and sleepily delved into 
their contents. 

Both soon became very uncomfort- 
able because of the proximity of the 
heated radiator and turned simultan- 
eously, stealthily raising two of the 
windows. This having been completed, 
they sank slowly into their seats, en- 
joying the cool breeze and awaiting the 
inevitable which quickly took place. It 
began with two or three freezing 
glances from as many girls, seated sev- 
eral rows to the front. Dick, who sat in 
front of Bill, soon got up and closed the 
windows, midst a chorus of expres- 
sions, such as "Pansy" and "He can't 
take it" from John and Bill. 

They all settled down to work soon, 
however, for approximately ten min- 
utes when Bill interrupted Dick in the 
middle of an algebraic equation by lift- 
ing his chair suddenly and pushing it 
violently to the left, dislodging it, with 
appropriate noise, from its allotted 
place. John having been watching the 
teacher, Miss Jones, throughout the en- 
tire process, suddenly became strangely 
interested in his book, while Dick la- 
boriously replaced his chair and then 
left for the library in search of a ref- 
erence book. Immediately his chair was 
arranged to suit the plotters, and sev- 
eral of his books disappeared, with 
more or less noise, to various parts of 
the room. 

This did not pass unchallenged. Miss 
Jones approached belligerently and de- 
manded to be told the cause of the dis- 
turbance. Silence prevailed ! Mean- 
while Dick returned and, after having 
gathered his scattered books, returned 
to his desk and solemnly sat down. With 
a resounding detonation, the chair slid 
into its proper position, much to Dick's 
embarrassment. Miss Jones again ap- 
proached, but, much to the relief of all 
concerned, she stopped to talk with one 
of her A pupils. 

Tired of fooling, John returned to 
the more tiring process of studying, 
as did the others. Ten minutes later, 

however, a slip of paper, having started 
from no one knew where, was passed 
from student to student, leaving merri- 
ment in its wake. Three minutes later, 
Dick, who had been sitting there, puz- 
zled, began to laugh, and Miss Jones 
started once more on the well-beaten 
path to the familiar corner in order to 
discover the cause of such an unre- 
strained outburst. Fortunately, -how 
ever, before she reached her destina- 
tion, the bell rang, and Dick, Bill, and 
John were lost in the crowd, suspending 
operations until a future date. 

Harry Burns '34 


The old fellow didn't go around much 
— not even to church on Sunday. But 
every day he went walking in the 
woods. He'd stay almost all day and 
then around six o'clock he'd come walk- 
ing up the street again. He didn't 
speak to any of the neighbors, so they 
didn't bother to speak to him. No one 
visited him when he first came to town. 
He didn't care, though — just kept to 
himself. The people did notice him, 
though — wondered about him all the 
time. The wives looked out their front 
windows to watch him when he went 
by. His house always looked pretty 
good. He hired somebody to paint it 
every five years — and the barn out 
back. He kept all the pickets on the 
fences. Once a year he had a woman 
in to clean, but she never found out 
much about him. Said he was neat 
and there wasn't much work for her to 

Probably he had been good-looking 
when he was young. He had a great 
white beard that reached way down to 
his neck — kept his hand on it all the 
time, — while he walked — talked — any- 
thing. Nobody ever saw him without 
his hand on that great white beard. He 
was tall — big-framed — health-looking. 
He dressed just ordinary — brown coat. 
He had a fine, regular face — almost like 
a woman's, — long, thin nose — thin, sen- 
sitive lips — dark, deep-set eyes. His 
eyes — they were kind of funny, though. 

One day a neighbor went over to see 
if he could use the telephone, because 
his was out of order. But the old fel- 
low wouldn't even let him come in. The 
neighbor was mad because he had to 
walk a long way to another telephone. 

The other day they found him. He 
died in the night. Old age — that's what 
the doctor said. He died an easy death. 



Just fell asleep when he went to bed 
and then never woke up. That's the 
best way to go — just fall asleep — easy- 
like. He looked so calm lying in the 
big oak bed — his arms outside the cov- 
ers — everything in order — nothing 
even mussed. His face was peaceful, 
satisfied. His face sure was beautiful. 
Never saw such a beautiful face on a 
man. His eyes were closed. His left 
hand was on his great white beard. In 
his other hand was a bunch of papers — 
all written on, fine — pinned together 
with a little wire clip. 

He didn't have any folks. Nobody 
knew about any, anyway. And they 
never found any. 

When the undertaker came to fix him, 
he took the papers. Said they were all 
crazy. The old man must have been 
awful queer. Said they were all about 
some religious stuff — how he had found 
the Perfect Way — the True God — death. 
Eclectic, the undertaker called it. Said 
he was a fanatic or something. May- 
be. His eyes — they were kind of funny. 
Dorothy Holmes '34 


"You never knew my pal Sam, did 
you? One swell guy, Sam. Greatest 
friend a fellow ever had. Sam roamed 
more, saw more places, did more things 
than anyone this side of the Mississippi. 
Sam was a sailor. I say was because 
he — well, he passed away yesterday. 
Didn't die any natural, painless death 
in his sleep, either. Nothing as tame 
as that for Sam. Sam was killed fight- 
ing a Chinaman in San Francisco. He 
would have been still living, too, if the 
dirty double-crosser hadn't stuck him 
in the back. I wonder how Sam came 
to let that Chinaman get behind 
him . . . 

"Sam and I were brought up in the 
same village. When Sam was fourteen, 
he ran away to sea. I stayed here. But 
Sam was always a great one for ad- 
venture, so he ran away. He came 
back, though. But each time he came 
back it wasn't with the idea of staying 
— no, sir. He wanted me to go away to 
sea with him. What stories he used to 
tell me! The stormy and calm days on 
the sea, the foreign lands, the gold 
mines he'd found, his experiences fight- 
ing his way through the jungle, the 
mammouth sea serpents, the octopi 
he'd wrestled with in the depths of the 
sea — oh, Sam was some man all right! 
He was no liar, either. I don't say he 

didn't stretch the truth a little at times. 
Who doesn't? And I know Sam had 
wonderful things happen to him. Why, 
that time he — well, I'll get to that. 

"As I was saying, Sam kept asking 
me to go with him. One day I said I'd 
go. We got out on the middle of the 
ocean, and after a few days of seasick- 
ness, I began to enjoy myself. 

"Then one day a storm came up, and 
what a storm! The ship rolled and 
pitched and pitched and rolled. The 
crew wa^ scurrying around, but I had 
enough to do to keep myself out of 
the ocean. What waves! Those waves 
were so big that they washed every- 
thing moveable off the deck and 
drenched everything under the deck. 

"Sam was having a hard time of it. 
The waves were almost making him 
lose his grip on the wheel. Every 
time I got a chance I looked to see 
whether he was still there. For a while 
he stuck like a leech. Then I looked 
again and, horrified, I caught a glimpse 
of his feet going overboard The wheel 
spun 'round, and the ship, out of control, 
swung around, also. I rushed to grab 
the wheel, but another wave was com- 
ing over — a huge green mountain! 
The ship lurched. The wave towered 
over it, then came on — and with it came 

"Don't tell me he wasn't some man !" 
Florence Armstrong '34 


Out of the east 

Like a plumed knight, 
The sun mounts to the sky 

On a gallant quest. 
As time goes on, 

Like an injured knight, 
Wounded in battle 

With the powerful night, 
It sinks toward the earth, 

Leaving an endless 
Trail of blood. 

Then the death blow 
By darkness is dealt — 

The end has come. 

Carlo Guidoboni '34 


Oh, Mother, sing me a song of the sea, 

For I am afraid of death; 

Oh, Mother, take the fear from me, 

And sing me to sleep 

With a song of the deep, 
And the sea-wind's salty breath. 

For, Mother, the nights are growing long, 

And the dark is drawing near; 

Oh, Mother, sing me a brave sea-song, 

And send me to sleep 

With a song of the deep 
That will drive away my fear. 

Marion McGinnis '35 




I stood at the crossroads of life one day, 

Pull eager to find the noblest way 

To climb the pathway to Learning and Fame. 

I hesitated to make my choice. 

It seemed as though I heard a voice 

Off in the distance, calling my name. 

I waited, and then to my listening ear 

It spoke in tones so sweet and clear 

That I marvelled as it began to say: 

"My child, before your choice you would make, 

Please let me show you the right road to take, 

Here is the path — its journey is hard; 

Sometimes its obstacles may you retard 

And cause you to rue your decision. 

But this is the path that will bring you much 

All the values of lifa you'll surely not miss, 
And your reward at the end, you may vision. 
For the Tower of Learning completes this long 

May you climb to its heights, and never once fail 
To realize the dreams of your future!" 

And now, my class, as Commencement Day 

I relate what the voice said to me. 
May everyone heed its worthwhile advice, 
If the top of that tower he'd see. 

Shirley Dutton '34 


An ocean liner 

Carries its precious load 

Across the blue expanse — 

Some young children 

On their first trip, 

Some old men on their last, 

Sorne young actors, 

A singer, or a poet, 

A musician, or maybe 

Just a merchant, 

Going back to the 

Land of his birth. 

Such differences among them ! 

Yet they are outwardly alike 

While they sail on — on — on 

To unknown destinies. 

Jeanette Goodwin '35 


Oh gosh! I've got to write a short 
story. No, I'll make it a play and I'll 
have, let's see what shall I have? — No, 
I guess that I'll just have to make it a 
short story. What will it be about? 
I know, I'll have it about some fellow 
telling what he learned in high school. 
What I Learned in High School 

I, John Brown, being required to write 
what I learned in high school, do submit 
the following thesis: (I'm afraid that 
I've mixed a few facts.) 

I learned that the square of the hypo- 
tenuse of a right triangle plus the cube 
of the cosine of x plus two equals the 
tense of be. 

Ohm's Law and the valence of the 
element copper are contributing factors 
to the popular belief that pink tooth 
brush is a hereditary disease. 

Caesar was ambitious, but why 
should Polonius give advice to Laertes 
when Clay, the Great Emancipator 
gave Hammurapi's Code to General 

In twenty-one days an egg becomes a 
chicken and, if two horses can do the 
work in three days, the reason for the 
formation of the German Confederation 
was the professional jealousy between 
Ptolemy I and Archduke Maximilian. 

Rasputin murdered Napoleon in 1812 
at the Battle of Bull Run and Brutus 
caused the World War by killing Cleo- 
patra with a wasp. 

Croesus made all of his money by 
holding Ophelia for ransom until Si- 
las Marner paid Mrs. Micawber the 
two dollars that he borrowed from the 
Ancient Mariner. . . . 

Now that I've written this much, how 
shall I end it? I can have John taking 
an entrance examination for an insane 
asylum or have him dream all of it. 
Well, I guess I just won't pass any 
story in. It isn't required, so I suppose 
my mark can stand it. 

Gilbert Andrews '34 


He was on his way home with his new car, 
which was absorbing all his attention when he 
felt that he had forgotten something. Twice 
he stopped, counted his parcels, and searched 
his pocketbook, but finally decided that he had 
everything with him. Yet the feeling persisted. 

When he reached home his daughter ran out, 
stopped short, and cried, "Why, Father, where's 

Taken from the South African News — Natal, 
South Africa : 

Evidence of efforts to implant food wisdom in 
the young Japanese mind is provided in this 
quotation from a sample of school composition. 

"The banana are great, remarkable fruit. 
He are constructed in the same architectural 
style as the honourable sausage. Difference be- 
ing skin of sausage are habitually consumed, 
while it not adviceable to eat rapping of 

Banana are held aloft while consuming; sau- 
sage are usually left in reclining position. Sau- 
sage depend for creation on human being or on 
stuffing machine, while banana are pristine 
product of honourable Mother Nature. 

In case of sausage both conclusions are at- 
tached to other sausages; honourable banana, 
on the other hand, are joined on one end to the 
stem and opposite termination are entirely 



Intor ®tp Wljtt* (ttnpaltx 

What has happened this last year 

We tell all now to you, 

And let it pass before you 

In a little news review. 

May we jog your memory a bit, and 
bring back to you the school high- 
lights of the year of N. R. A. (No Radio 
Allowed), C. C. C. (Continued Crowded 
Conditions), C.W. A. (Can't Work Any- 
way), P. W. A. (Pupils Working Am- 
bitiously! ! ! ? and S. A. S. (Seats are 
Scarce) ? 

Surely you haven't forgotten the 
"Jewels of Isabella" (Dorothy Perkins) 
presented by Miss Brown's United 
States History classes last October? 
Wasn't "Brick" Bennett lovely as the 
Virgin and didn't Carlo make a realistic 
Columbus when he devoured raw frank- 
furters and Italian "pone" with appal- 
ling gusto ? 

Do you remember Mr. Schlagenhauf 
of Northeastern who spoke to us 'way 
back last September, and those two ab- 
sorbing musical assemblies in which 
Miss Leavitt of B. U. School of Music, 
was pianist and teacher? Believe it or 
not, even the sophisticated seniors be- 
came interested in her combination of 
music and fairy story ! (We mourn the 
loss of senior dignity!) 

You can't have forgotten Doctor 
Grafflin who gave the sage advice, 
"Don't be a human pickle." 

And now just a reminder lest you 
forget the fine Armistice Day program 
presented by the Junior English classes. 

"Ki! Yi! Yi!" (I'm heading for the 
last roundup!") and the beat of the 
tom-tom resounded through the ancient 
and well-worn corridors when Joe Po- 
canto, honest-to-goodness, cross-our- 
hearts "Injun," gave us an example of 
his tribal sun dance. 

"Mammy's little baby loves shortnin' 
bread," and maybe we didn't love to 
sing it with Ernest Johnson, negro 
tenor, leading us. 

Then there was Joe Toye of the Bos- 
ton Herald Traveller, who took us be- 
hind the scenes with a newspaper man, 
and maybe we didn't envy Richard Ben- 
nett, Class of '24, P. H. S., who spent 
a year in Spain sketching and trav- 
eling when he narrated his experiences 
to us in an assembly. 

The Commercial Department had an 
assembly especially appealing to them 

when Mr. Willard of the Bentley 
School of Accounting spoke to us last 

"Do right and fear no man, don't 
write and fear no woman," advises one 
of the witty motto's on Miss Cary's 
blackboard. (We'd like to follow its ad- 
vice, but someone's got to write this 
column.) Ah, me, and lack-a-day, 
let's be brave and continue. . . . 

Wellllll — there was a Senior Dance 
last December, probably long since for- 
gotten, but nevertheless very successful 
and well attended. 

Clubs have been unusually active this 
year. Now let's see — there's the 
Sophomore Creative Writing Club un- 
der Mrs. Swift's supervision; the Jun- 
ior Press Club which keeps the town 
newspapers well informed on school ac- 
tivities; and the Latin Club which has 
had a picnic and Valentine Party for 
Freshman (we suspect Miss Wilber of 
liking the lean and hungry Frosh). 
The Latin Club also sponsored Tuesday 
night Reading Circles for Sophomores. 

Oliver Matinzi surprised us with his 
ability when he became actor in the 
Thanksgiving Play presented and writ- 
ten by members of the Sophomore Eng- 
lish Classes. 

The Christmas Spirit was much in 
evidence last Yuletide. Besides the 
usual Christmas boxes prepared for 
needy families by home rooms, and the 
sale of tickets for a movie benefit 
which helped finance the Kiddies Party, 
the Senior English Classes gave an in- 
spiring play, "The Cathedral Clock". 
Lawrence Bongiovani's interpretation 
of the Blind Visitor showed unusual 
dramatic talent, and John Ferreira is 
to congratulated on his faithful repro- 
duction of a German fifteenth-century 

A novel sketch of Washington and 
Lincoln conversing, celebrated their 
birthdays jointly at an assembly spon- 
sored by the Sophomore History Classes. 

How well do you know your "90 com- 
mon errors"? Wa found out last No- 
vember when Education Week was ob- 
served with a presentation of "S.O S " 
an original play by Daniel Brown. Flor- 
ence Armstrong, Shirley Dutton, Sarah 
Dill, and James Louden were the most 
apt at recognizing poor English, and 
were rewarded with cash prizes 



Ooooh ! I wish I'd studied my English 
grammar more ! ! 

After seeing balls vanish mysterious- 
ly into thin air in a short assembly one 
morning, the student body decided to 
sponsor an evening of magic by the 
Great Bruce. We're still wondering 
what the connection was between the 
trap door which Mr. Bodell cut in the 
stage floor the morning of February 
8th, and the performance that night of 
Great Bruce, the magician. 

Sports Results (Graded) 
Girls' Hockey B 
Football D (It breaks our 

Girls' Basketball C 
Boys' Basketball A But, oh, that tour- 

Do you remember Jeannette, Buddy, 
and Harry as cheerleaders at the Arm- 
istice Day football game? How the 
wind did blow! (Martyrs to a good 
cause.) The torch which they lighted 
burned on brightly thru the basketball 
season when school spirit manifested it- 
self vociferously. 

Don't you just love the Senior Class 
rings? (Patience is rewarded!) The 
Junior's taste in rings isn't so, bad 
either. Have you seen theirs yet? 

Do you remember these school social 

The Senior Project with its apprecia- 
tive audience at the play, and the en- 
thusiastic group of dancers later on? 

The Sophomore Hop — a recent inno- 
vation and a great success? 

The Freshman Dance always antici- 
pated and much enjoyed? 

The Junior Prom — the year's social 
highlight held in a beautifully decorat- 
ed hall? 

At a most interesting assembly a 
short time ago, Mr. Warren of the State 
Farm in Bridgewater gave us an un- 
usual talk on his work among the men- 
tally deficient. 

"Bravo ! Encore !" and great applause 
rang through our spacious ( ?) assem- 
bly hall as Mr. Walters of the New Eng- 
land Conservatory of Music entertained 
us at the piano with some exceptional 1 ^ 
fine playing. With him, Mr. Dyer told 
us some interesting facts about La Belle 
France. (Attention, Miss Carey, we 
make practical use of our French ! !) 

At another assembly, a jolly soul- 
saver, Colonel Walter Winchell, other- 
wise known as the Bishop of the Bow- 

ery, increased our store of knowledge 
about that world-famed section of New 
York City. 

A new thing in student organiza- 
tions is the Student Activities Society, 
which has recently been organized to 
"encourage and coordinate extra- 
curricula activities both new and old 
within the school." Although there is 
little time for action this year, the or- 
ganization is making a good start for a 
year of great activity next year. More 
power to you, S. A. S. ! 

Yum! Yum! Weren't we hungry! 
But who wouldn't be after seeing the 
moving pictures given at the Old Colony 
Theatre through the courtesy of Mr. 
Kunze and the Hershey Chocolate Com- 

The Pilgrim Staff has attended two 
meetings of the Southeastern Massa- 
chusetts League of School Publications, 
one in Milton, the other in Bridgewater. 
Now we'll cease, desist, and stop — 
In other words, refrain — 
Until next year, when we'll be back 
To pester you again. 

A reverdecie, 

Marjorie S. Belcher '34 
Alba Martinelli '36 

Alumni Notes 

Members of the Class of '33 Seeking 
Higher Learning' 

Milton Berg, who is enrolled at 
Brown University, is, of course, doing 
well scholastically, and has found time 
to go out for freshman football. 

Gilbert Besse, at Northeastern Uni- 
versity, is among the leaders of his 

Enzo Bongiovanni, who is honoring 
Wilbraham Academy with his presence, 
may be seen walking along Main Street 
with a collegiate pipe in his mouth 
humming the tune, "Smoke Gets in 
Your Eyes." 

Warren Davis, who was forced to 
forsake Phillips Andover Academy for 
the Phillips House (Massachusetts 
General Hospital) due to an unruly 
appendix, is back at the academy, a few 
inches taller, but otherwise unchanged. 

Ferdinand Fiocchi (Dr. Fiocchi to 
you) is at Tufts College preparing 
either for the medical or dental profes- 



Bertha James finds it as easy to 
lead the girls of Hampton Institute in 
athletics as she did our own P. H. S. 

Justin Walker is at Higgins Class- 
ical Institute. His athletic endeavors, 
while most successful, have resulted in 
another cauliflower ear. 

Marjorie Cassidy, the only repre- 
sentative of the Class of '33 to enroll 
at Bridgewater State Teachers' College, 
is maintaining the fine quality of work 
which marked her high school days. 

Dorothy Testoni and Edith Hal- 
berg are upholding the honor of our 
school at Chandler Secretarial and do- 
ing a very fine piece of work at it. 

Joseph Shaw is among these brave 
souls who arise at an unearthly hour in 
order to catch the early morning train 
for Northeastern University. 

Down at Hyannis Teachers' College, 
Frances Burgess is putting forth her 
best efforts and doing very well. 

Margaret Whiting, '33's overworked 
artist, is continuing her chosen work at 

the Vesper George School of Art. 

Kenneth Tingley, the quiet little 
fellow himself, is singing the praise of 
Boston University, and in no uncertain 

Edward Warnsman, who has aided 
so greatly in giving P. H. S. dramatics 
their fine name, is studying at the New 
England Conservatory of Music. 

Anna O'Brien, the delegate to La- 
sell Junior College, is fulfilling her mis- 
sion admirably. 

Victoria Brewer is using the energy 
which used to be spent in performing 
artistic duties for the class, in making 
a name for herself at Bryant and Strat- 

Iris Albertini is piling up honors at 
Radcliffe. Still, what else could be ex- 
pected of Iris? 

Gilbert Harlow, the leader of the 
Class of '33, has been elected Vice- 
President of the Freshman Class at 
Tufts College and ranks fifth highest 

Jeannette Martin '34 

Left to right (first row) : (P) Tony Gavoni, Alton Cavicchi, Edward Brewster, 
James Marada, Burnham Young, Vincent Baietti, Albert Albertini; (second row): 
James Boyle, Carmino Rossetti, Antonio Provinzano, Arthur Ragazzini, Carlo 
Guidoboni, Vincent Tassinari, Ralph Goodwin; (third row): Charles Potter, re- 
porter; Olindo Borghesani, Eric Eccleston, Robert Martin, William MacPhail, Alton 
Whiting, David Brewer, Dunham Rogers, Bradford Martin, Louis Poluzzi, Balmon 
Pimental, Mr. Smith, coach 




The past football season proved to be 
a most disastrous one for Plymouth 
High School. The team won only one 
game, tied another, and lost six. 

With the very first game the injury 
jinx started and followed the team 
through the entire season. Beginning 
with Falmouth, the team won a victory 
over the Cape boys, but with the Hing- 
ham game the injuries started to pile 
up and so did the defeats. 

The following members of last year's 
team have hung up the moleskins for 
the last time: Warren Sampson, 
Thomas Roncarati, Joseph Stefani, 
Olindo Borghesani, Carlo Guidoboni, 
Charles Ryan, and Francis Lavache. 

With Bradford Martin, Andrew Bas- 
ler, Arthur Raggazini, Jack Guimares, 
Vincent Neri, Albert Albertini, and 
Alonzo James returning for next year's 
team, prospects for a good season are 
very bright. 

Coach Bagnall also expects promising 
material from the freshman team. 


The basketball season, from the points 
of attendance and finances, was the 
most successful one in the history of 
the school. Each game was played be- 
fore capacity crowds. 

The team lost only two games during 
the scheduled season, but was defeated 
by Abington in the semi-final round at 
the South Shore tournament in Brock- 
ton. Incidentally Abington went on to 
win the tournament and gain perman- 
ent possession of the Kiwanis trophy. 
It was necessary to win this trophy 
three times to hold it. By defeating 
Rockland in the consolation game, 
Plymouth gained third place. 

The following players will be lost to 
the team for next year: William Mac- 
Phail, Dunham Rogers, Thomas Ron- 
carati, Harold Clark, Ralph Goodwin, 
Arthur Strassel, and Charles Ryan. 

Among the players who will return 
to the game are: Bradford Martin, Al- 
ton Whiting, Atteo Ferrazi, Mario 
Garuti, Louis Polluzzi, and Gerald 

Two Plymouth players, Alonzo James 
and Arthur Strassel, were chosen by 

the coaches of the district for the all- 
district team. The team was picked 
in this way: each coach had five votes, 
one vote for each position on the 
team, and the player who received 
most votes for a position was given 
that position on the mythical team. 

"Babe" James received eight votes of 
a possible nine, and Strassel received 
six votes. 

Congratulations, Babe and Art. 


Before the actual call for candidates 
for varsity baseball was issued, an 
intra-mural league was formed. In this 
league there were eight teams. The 
captains of the teams were appointed 
by Coaches Smith and Bagnall, and 
then at a meeting of the coaches and 
captains, teams were chosen with ap- 
proximately twelve players allowed to 
each team. The games were started im- 
mediately after the selection of players. 

Before the season was many days old 
it was announced that, through the ef- 
forts of Coach Bagnall and the courtesy 
and generosity of "Eddie" Collins, Vice- 
President of the Boston Red Sox, the 
winners of the league would be the 
guests of the Red Sox management at 
a ball game on May 14. 

"Babe" James and his team, after a 
close race, were finally declared the 
champions of the league, and so it was 
their good fortune to be the guests of 
the Red Sox. 

As this edition goes to press, the 
varsity baseball schedule has not 
started. The first game of the season 
was to have been played at Middleboro 
on May 4, but was called off because of 
rain and later cancelled because an- 
other suitable date could not be ar- 


The first warm days of spring found 
a large and promising group of track 
aspirants answering Coach Smith's call 
for candidates. The first few days were 
spent in limbering up stiff muscles, — 
then followed a period of real training 
and practice. 

This year Coach Smith had a novel 
way of running off the inter-class track 



meet. Instead of having the whole meet 
on one afternoon, a different event was 
held each day. In this way Coach Smith 
was able to form a more accurate 
opinion of each candidate. After all 
the events had been held, it was found 
that the senior class had easily won, 
with the juniors in second place. The 
seniors had a decided edge in the track 
events, but the other classes pressed the 
victors in the field events. 

In the first inter-scholastic meet our 
boys were defeated by a fine Braintree 
team by the one-sided score of 54-17. 
The Plymouth boys next journeyed to 
Hingham where they were barely nosed 
out by the score of 45-41. In this meet 
Plymouth showed a great deal of im- 
provement. As this issue goes to press, 
there remain four dual meets and a dis- 
trict meet at Brockton in which the 
Plymouth High team will participate. 

Francis Lavache '34 

Left to right (first row) : Dunham Rogers, Arthur Strassel, Alonzo James, Ralph 
Goodwin, Thomas Roncarati, Charles Ryan; (second row): Mario Garuti, Atteo 
Ferazzi, Bradford Martin, William MacPhail, Alton Whiting, Harold Clark 

Left to right (first row): Carleton Petit, Ralph Lamborghini; (second row): Albert 
Albertini, Ralph Goodwin, Arthur Ragazzini, Alonzo James, Thomas Roncarati, 
Robert Profetty; (third row): Carmino Rossetti, Atteo Ferrazi, Harold Clark, Alton 
Whiting, Charles Bagnall, coach; George Courtney, Bradford Martin, Andrew Basler, 
Louis Poluzzi 



Girls' Athletics 


Another successful season for Plym- 
outh High! 

Mrs. Garvin built her team around 
four of last year's players. The Sopho- 
mores should be given special credit for 
their playing. 

This season Plymouth played six in- 
terscholastic games. We were victor- 
ious in three, tied two, and lost one. 
The Alumnse game, which was the 
most interesting and exciting game of 
the season, ended in a 2-2 tie. Louise 
Guy, '29, was the outstanding player on 
the Alumnse team. 

While the seniors maintained their 
good records of former years, there 
were several outstanding sophomores. 
Among them were Margaret Donovan, 
who has been ranked as one of Plymouth 
High's best center-forwards ; and Janet 
Clark, who is trying to equal the good 
record that her aunt made in '29 as left- 

P. H. S. schedule— 1933 

Team Place Score 

seniors who served were E. Bradford, 
M. Zandi, R. Gardner, D. Perkins, A. 
Cappella; the junior was H. Brewer. 























The whole of last year's team having 
graduated, Mrs. Garvin was forced to 
re-organize her team. Because of this 
handicap we were not so successful as 
usual in this sport. However Coach 
Garvin has found several freshman 
and sophomores who may prove to be 
very good players. 

The first team was defeated in every 
game, while the second team won two 

P. H. S. Schedule— 1933-34 

Team Place Score 

Rockland There 32-13 

Middleboro Here 23-15 
Alumnse Here 05-13 

Middleboro There 29-25 
Rockland Here 24-09 

For the first time the Plymouth girls 
played intra-mural games in basketball. 
Having these games increases the abil- 
ity of the players and gives every girl 
a real chance to play basketball. 

Five seniors and one junior were cap- 
tains of these intra-mural teams. The 


As in all other sports, many of the 
stars graduated in 1933. With Bertha 
James and Hazel Clark gone, the Track 
team was handicapped. But, again our 
Coach, who just won't let things like 
this discourage her, has been selecting 
her girls from the freshman and sopho- 
more groups. She hopes that these 
young athletes will take the places of 
the former stars. 

"Shall we again carry off the honors 
at the Brockton Track Meet as we 
have done in former years?" is the 
burning question. 


Mrs. Garvin is planning to continue 
her coaching in tennis this year. She 
wishes to build a girls' tennis team that 
will compete with other schools. 

Because of the successful baseball 
season last year, we have decided to 
continue this sport. Last year was our 
first venture into this field. Coach Gar- 
vin has scheduled games with Hanover 
and Scituate. Plymouth will also play 
return games with these schools. 

Augusta Cappella '34 


Continued from page 16 

ered another stormy year, and the hope 
that you succeed as well with the class 
of '38. 

To the Class of 1935 : May the com- 
ing senior class be as prompt and de- 
cisive in making class meeting decisions 
as their most worthy predecessors ! 

To the Class of 1936 : We leave the 
P. H. S. remembering your highly in- 
tellectual class, and, if any of us return 
as P. G.'s, let it be known that the 
cause is probably the desire to see more 
of certain young "flames." 

To the Class of 1937 : May the next 
class of freshies stuff as much paper 
into your new desks as you did into 
ours ! 

Drawn up in the offices of Rosen- 
crantz, Guildenstern, Eckbeum, and 
Schmultz; and to be executed through 
the agency of Karl von Tegavootchi. 
Witnessed by: 

Percival P. Flannelmouth, Esq. 
Pancho B. Gomez II 

Leroy Schrieber 
Harry Burns 



-- . — - . ... •- 



Left to right (first row): Daisy Hall, Alba Martinelli, Ruth Gardner, Elizabeth 
Vaughn, Lucy Mayo, Janet Clark, Thelma Ferioli, Alma Guidetti; (second row): 
Alice Hall, Nellie Pierce, Jean Whiting, Katharine Lahey, Evelyn Schreiber, Catherine 
(Cris) Christie, Margaret Donovan, Edna Nickerson; (third row) : Ruth Valler, 
Marguerite (Keth) Ketchen, Aurora Regini, Gertrude Simmons, Mrs. Garvin, coach; 
Elise Monti, Marion Morey, Jennie Mazilli, Augusta Cappella 

Left to right (first row): Margaret Donovan, Theresa Govi, Augusta Cappella, 
Alma Guidetti, Edna Nickerson; (second row) : Elizabeth Vaughn, Lucy Mayo, Ruth 
Gardner, Ruth Buttner, Janet Clark, Evelyn Schreiber, Alice Hall; (third row): 
Ruth Valler, Daisy Hall, Aurore Regini, Jean Whiting, Gertrude Simmons, Catherine 
Christie, Thelma Ferioli, Mrs. Garvin, coach 





_ Cest la foret que les Americains 
aiment. Dans la foret on trouve beau- 
coup d'arbres verts et d'arbustes. Le 
fond est couvert de gazon et de belles 
fleurs. La silence tranquille, la brise 
fraiche, la franchise d'espace: ce sont 
les charmes principaux de la foret. En 
hiver, la beaute prodigieuse de la foret 
s'augmente. Tous les abres sont 
couverts de neige qui petille dans la 
clarte du soleil. La neige blanche pro- 
tege tout. Oh est etonne par le 
changement d'aspect. Le vent siffle 
dans les branches des abres. 

Au printemps les arbres nues sont 
changes par la naissance des feuilles. 
Avec cette naissance arrivent les petits 
oiseaux. Leurs chants joyeux sont 
accueillis par tout le monde. Dans- les 
lieux ombreux, on trouve la petite vi- 
olette douce. Partout on voit le retour 
a la vie apres le long hiver. Partout on 
trouve la joie de la vie. Ah! que la 
foret est magnifique ! 

Leroy Schreiber '34 

Un homme nomme Patrick O'Riley 
etait un grand buveur. Sa femme, qui 
voulait corriger l'habitude, a cherche 
le conseil de sa voisine. Elle lui a ex- 
plique un plan. 

— Parce que votre mari passe un 
cimetiere tous les soirs cachez-vous-y 
et, auand il passe, faites sieme des bras 
et dites — "O-o-o-o, je suis Satan !" Ceci 
l'effrayera beaucoup et il ne touchera 
jamais plus de liqueur. 

Le prochain soir le femme attendait 
son mari au cimetiere. Quand Patrick 
y passait, elle fit signe des bras et elle 
dit. "O-o-o-o, je suis Satan!" 

Patrick, pas deconcerte. s'avanca et 
dit, "Touchez-la, je me suis marie avec 
votre epouse." 

George Farnell '34 

II y etait un preteur d'argent qui 
demeurait dans une petite ville. II etait 
notoire parce qu'il etait si chiche. Un 
jour pendant qu'il se promenait il a 
perdu son porte-feuille dans lequel il y 
avait deux cent cinquante dollars. II a 
mis un avis dans le journal mais son 
porte-feuille n'etait pas rendu. Apres 
un mois il a decide que quiconque l'avait 
trouve avait tenu l'argent. 

Un jour, apres que deux mois ont 
passe, un fermier a frappe a la porte. 
II l'avait trouve. 

Le fermier attendait pour voir si 
1 'homme lui donnerait une petite re- 
compense. La preteur a ouvert le porte- 
feuille, a compte l'argent et dit, 

— Bien, tout l'argent est ici, mais ou 
est l'interet pour les deux mois pendant 
lesquels je ne pouvais pas m'en servir? 

Artos Bonzagni '34 


On voyait tou jours dans les rues de 
Paris une vieille dame habillee d'une 
robe noire dechiree, et portant un grand 
chapeau couvrant presque ses petits 
yeux. Elle portait un panier plein de 
pommes et d'autres fruits qu'elle 
rendait aux gens qui passaient ca et la 
dans les rues. On l'appelait Madame 
La Fruitiere. 

Un jour elle est allee dans la Rue St. 
Marie pour vendre ses fruits a une belle 
jeune fille, une dansense dans le theatre. 
Madame Boucart aimait beaucoup cette 
fille non sulement parce qu'elle etait or- 
pheline mais parce qu'elle semblait tou- 
jours triste, desireuse d'avoir quelqu'un 
avec qui elle pouvait parler. Ce jour, 
quand elle est arrivee a la porte derriere 
le theatre, elle n'a pas trouve Mile. La 
Belle et ayant demande a quelqu'un ou 
elle se trouvait, la vieille dame a appris 
que la danseuse etait tres malade dans 



La pauvre etait tres triste mais avant 
qu'elle put demander a quelqu'un le nora 
de l'hopital, un agent de police l'a prise 
par le bras et lui dit : 

— Mile. La Belle veut vous< voir im- 
mediatement dans l'Kopital de Paris. 

En y arrivant elle etait menee dans 
une chambre ou se couchait le jeune fille. 

— Bon jour, Madame Boucart, dit la 
fille a voix basse. 

— Bon jour, ma chere, repondit la 
vieille dame. Est-ce que vous etes tres 
malade, ma petite? 

— Oui, mais comme vous etes mon 
amie, je veux vous confier quelque chose. 
Quand j'etais enfant ma mere m'a 
quitte. Elle a ecrit une lettre a mon 
pere, dans laquelle elle lui a dit qu'elle 
n'etait pas digne de lui et qu'elle ne 
aussi qu'il trouverait une autre femme 
qui n'avait pas passe une mauvaise vie 
comme elle Favait fait. Elle s'appelle 
Anna Beaumont. Si vous pouvez la 
trouver, dites-lui que je l'aimais bien 

qu'elle , mais lai jeune fille 

n'avait pas la force de finir. La vieille 
dame a decouvert trop tard que cette 
chere amie etait sa fille. 

Josephine Montanari '34 


Apres le scandale recent de Stavisky 
qui a cause la ruine de deux gouverne- 
ments francais et presqu'une revolution, 
les Francais ont rappele du sud de la 
France un petit homme, le seul homme 
qui put restituer l'ordre. II s'appelle 
Gaston Doumerge et quand il est arrive, 
les gens se sont rejouis. 

II y avait beaucoup d'autres prob- 
lemes a resoudre: le franc etait en 
danger, le budget n'etait pas balance, il 
y avait la question de Hitler. 

Un de ses premiers accomplissements 
etait le balancement du budget. II a 
ordonne qu'il soit passe avant le premier 
mars-. A minuit, le vingt-huit f evrier on 
a arrete toutes les horloges dans la 
chambre de Deputes et les Deputes ont 
travaille jusqu'au point du jour quand 
le budget etait passe. 

Pour se rendre compte de la confiance 
que les Francais ont en lui, il f aut savoir 
quelque chose de sa vie. 

Gaston Doumerge est ne a Augues- 
Vives en Gard, il y a soixante-dix ans. 
II a commence sa carriere comme avocat 
plaidant. Plus tard il etait magistrat 
en Cochin-Chime et en Algerie et il 
etait elu a la Chambre de Deputes. 
D'autres positions qu'il a tenues sont le 

Ministre des Colonies, le Vice-President 
de la Chambre, le Ministre de Com- 
merce, le Ministre d'Education et 

En 1913 il a forme un cabinet et il 
s'est mis en charge des affaires 
etrangeres, mais lui et son cabinet 
etaient forces de resigner l'annee pro- 
chaine. Au commencement de la Grande 
Guerre il etait Ministre des Colonies et 
en 1917 on l'a envoye en Russe pour 
examiner les conditions. Quand il est 
retourne il est devenu senateur de 
nouveau et alors, le President du senat. 
En 1924 quand le President Alexandre 
Millerand etait force de resigner, "Gas- 
tounet," le petit homme, qui ne s'etait 
jamais lie a un scandale politique, un 
celibataire, et, apres beaucoup d'annees 
en politiques, encore un homme pauvre, 
est devenu le President de la Republique. 

Et maintenatt, le Premier Doumerge 
veut empecher un autre vacarme et 
effacer de memoire le scandale de 
Stavisky par une periode de gouverne- 
ment honnete. II sait que la crise ne 
finira jusqu'a ce que cette infamie soit 
exposee et expliquee. 

Dans presque toutes les grandes 
crises de l'histoire, il se presente un chef 
qui guide sa patrie dans ses difficultes. 
Les Francais croient qu'ils ont trouve 
leur sauveur, Gaston Doumerge. 

Laura Lamborghini '34 


(Adapted from Virgil's "Aeneid") 

By day sitting on silent haunches, 
Hears, with feather-covered ears, 
All the gossip of each town; 
Terrifying whole cities 
By her awe-inspiring presence. 

By night, flying o'er peaceful nations, 

She spreads gossip with her prating mouths. 

Ever watching with a million eyes; 

And in her wake leaves horrified people, 

Gasping at both truth and lies — 


Harry Burns '34 


Fundamentally, Roman elections were 
much the same as ours, although they 
were conducted differently. 

The Romans transacted many po- 
litical matters and elected their of- 
ficials in two assemblies of the peo- 
ple called the "comitia tributa" and 
the "comitia centuriata." In the former, 
the people voted in tribes, which cor- 
respond roughly to the city wards of 
modern times. This assembly elected 
the less important magistrates. In the 



latter, the people were divided into cen- 
turies or military divisions. Here the 
consuls, censors, praetors, and other 
more important officials were elected. 

Although our ballots and indirect 
method of voting are of more recent 
origin, political parties, campaign 
speeches, bribery, intimidation of vot- 
ers, and ether methods of controlling 
the elections' existed as extensively then 
as they do today. Even posters announc- 
ing the candidates have been found. 
Often these posters bore fierce little 
warnings' such as: "May the person who 
defaces this get sick." Many induce- 
ments were probably used to influence 
the vote, but the importance of cam- 
paign cigars had not been discovered 

in Roman times. Charles Cooper '35 


Continued from page 19 
bit eloquent, but after all, it's only the 
nature of the beast.) 

Kenneth Gray, in collaboration with 
David Rushton, chose the one on the 
right because, as he said, "It must be 
right." Anyhow, he got left. 

Feeling the effects of Brigida's lem- 
onade, we stop in to see Dr. Carlo Gui- 
doboni. Making ourselves comfortable 
in the spacious waiting room and tired 
of re-reading the usual old magazines, 
we turned on the radio, a "Young Super 
D-X Television Receiver." 

The first thing to greet our ears was 
the melodious voice of Paul Warnsman, 
the nation's leading crooner, then that 
of Irene LaRocque, accompanied by 
Dorothy Holmes, pianist in Volta's or- 

The selection over, Louise Rose, the 
announcer, takes the microphone and 
tells us what we are going to hear next. 
We fool her, however, by turning to an- 
other station and are nearly put to sleep 
by the bedtime stories of Mary Riley. 

Laura Lamborghini, Carlo's private 
secretary, shakes us out of our doze to 
say that Carlo isn't in. 

We thank her for the use of the of- 
fice and leave, only to find the booths 
closed and the crowds gone home. 

Well, don't you think we've traveled 
around and seen enough for one day? 


g*dCSF JWWj 

Left to right (first row) : Alba Martinelli, Theresa (Gow) Govi, Helen Brewer, 
Lucy Mayo, Janet Clark, Edna Nickerson; (second row): Daisy Hall, Alice Hall, 
Ruth Gardner, Elizabeth Vaughn, Katharine Lahey, Evelyn Schreiber, Margaret 
Donovan, Thelma Ferioli, Alma, Guidetti; (third row) : Ruth Valler, Aurora Regini, 
Nellie Pierce, Jean Whiting, Gertrude Simmons, Mrs. Garvin, coach; Elsie Monti, 
Marion Morey, Catherine Christie, Jennie Mazilli, Augusta Cappella 




Title: The Strange Death of Sniffen 
Snoop or The Inquisitive Inter- 

Dramatis Personn^e: Sniffen Snoop, 
cad. The Editor. 

Scene: Anywhere in good old P. H. S. 
ACT I. Scene I. 
Curtain rises revealing diligent edi- 
tor working (as usual). A small, wiz- 
ened, villainous-looking gentleman (?) 

enters. You guessed it, dear reader. It 

is Sniffen Snoop. 

Sniffen Snoop: most high and au- 
gust editor, what is that mound by 
your elbow? - 

Editor: A pile of magazines which 
have been received from outside 
schools. What business is it of yours ? 

Snif: None at all, Ed. 

Ed: I thought so, Snif. 

Snif: What are you reading? 

Ed: The Sunny Days from Athens, 
Greece. I find it most interesting for 
a small publication. 

Snif: In what' part of Massachusetts 
is Greece? 

Ed: Don't display your ignorance. 

Snif: The Wampatuck from Brain- 
tree has excellent poetry. 

Ed: I didn't know you could read. 
(Incredulous tone) 

Snif: Are you trying to be funny, Ed? 

Ed: Yes. 

Snif: Try harder. 

Ed: Thank you, Snif. 

Snif: Ah, here is the Orange Leaf, a 
most complete magazine. Its column 
on "School News" is commendable. 

Ed: To be sure, Snif, to be sure. (Joe 
Penner accent) 

Snif: The Norwood Arguenot cer- 
tainly has plenty of photographs, Ed. 
I think the idea is clever and attrac- 

Ed: I noticed that too, Snif. 
Snif: Here we have the Flood Tide 
all the way from the frigid town of 
Petersburg, Alaska ! 

Ed: Plymouth is not so hot in the 
winter, either ! 

Snif: I didn't know you had a maga- 
zine from Plymouth, England. 

Ed: I see you have improved in your 

Snif: The Mercury cover design is 
unique, Ed. 

Ed: Are you still here? 

Snif: The cartoons in the Attleboro 
Blue Owl are a distinguishing fea- 

Ed: Why can't you keep quiet? 

Snif: What has the West Bridgewater 
Climber to say about The Pilgrim? 

Ed: (reading) The Pilgrim is our 
idea of a school magazine — good 
stories, excellent foreign language 
department, clever witticisms. The 
'song album' was a clever idea." 

Snif: Any other comments, Ed? 

Ed: Listen to this one from the Hop- 
dale Blue Flame — "The cover of 
your magazine is attractively de- 
signed. The snap-shots add a per- 
sonal touch, especially the snap-shots 
of the Seniors with the individual 

Snif: I am listening, Ed. 

Ed: From the Academy Graduate, 
Newburgh, N. Y.— "The Pilgrim's 
Yearbook from Plymouth, Massa- 
chusetts, is of a very commendable 
nature. The literary work is finely 
written, the sport section interesting, 
the foreign language instructive and 
amusing, and Yearbook, on the whole, 
is excellent. Congratulations !" 

Sw'f: Here is the comment of the 
Rockland Parrot — The Pilgrim of 
Plymouth, Massachusetts, is a beau- 
tiful red and silver magazine artis- 
tistically designed. This magazine 
has an able staff to produce such ex- 
cellent work. I enioyed the account 
of Miss Nancy's "boy friend Fran- 
cais" very much ; this was written en- 
tirely in French. The literary de- 
partment is excellent; The Pilgrim 



has a bountiful supply of interesting 

Ed: How is this from the Weymouth 
Reflector? — "The cover and general 
make-up of the magazine were very 
attractive, and the Foreign Language 
department was quite interesting. 
Other good features of interest were : 
The Past, Present, and Future; Lit- 
erature, and the Alumni Notes." 

Snif: The Stoneham Authentic says, 
"We enjoyed The Pilgrim greatly. 
It is a most complete and well writ- 
ten publication. Let's hear from you 
some more." 

Ed: Well, it has been a pleasure meet- 
you, Sniffer, but, if you must go . . . 

Snif: Why are you sitting on those 
two excellent magazines, the Wal- 
ham Mirror and the Middleboro Sac- 
hem, Ed? 

Ed: Because I can't write in a low 
chair, silly. 

Snif: What are you writing? 

Ed: I am addressing copies of the 
Pilgrim to the Abington Abhis, the 
Rockland Parrot, the Duxbury Par- 
tridge, and millions of others. Woe is 
me, Sniff en, woe is me! 

Snif: Tell me, Ed, do you like spinach? 
(Editor draws revolver and shoots 
Sniff en Snoop.) 

Ed: Peace at last! 

Exit dragging body of Snoop. 
Curtain falls 
Playwrights : 

Leroy Schreiber '34 
William Pearson '35 


Continued from page 33 
ered with blood and muck. He thought 
only of the glory of war, the heat of the 
fray, the thrill of battle! 

Finally Johann commenced to fre- 
quent the tavern in order to be with his 
young friends who were soon to go to 
the front. Often, as he made merry 
with them, older, wiser men would pull 
him aside, congratulate the boy, and tell 
him how lucky he was. And usuallv Jo- 
hann would brush them aside impati- 
ently. "Old fools," he thought, "old 
cowards ! What do they know about 

Now rich men's sons were also draft- 
ed, but they never went to war, because 
money was theirs. Wealthy fathers 
paid Jews to travel and seek substitutes 
for these faint-hearted sons of wealth. 
It so happened that many of these 
dealers in human lives spent much of 

their time in Roppveiler's coffee-house. 
They were shrewd, crafty, little men 
with glinting eyes and a persuading 
manner, always on the alert for such 
young men as Johann. Inevitably one of 
them encountered him, and struck up 
an acquaintance. They talked, and nat- 
urally the subject was war. They drank 
together, and, as they drank, the Jew 
relentlessly drummed one/ thought into 
Johann's befuddled mind. 

"Meiner Sohn," wheedled the crafty 
fellow, "a fine strong man such as your- 
self should win honors in the war. Why 
do you stay at home tied to an apron 

In extenuation, Johann explained. 

"Ah, meiner Sohn, you can do little 
for your mother now. In wartime 
buildings are not erected. Instead they 
are demolished. Do this for your moth- 
er. Here is gold enough to keep your 
family comfortable, and when you have 
gone, there will be one less mouth to 
feed. Just go in place of Adolph Ec- 
kert. He is a whining coward. You are 
not. That I can tell by looking at you." 
And the Jew leaned forward confidenti- 
ally, "From information I received, I 
know the war will soon be over. A few 
more months and you will be home 
again, and much money to the good." 

The Jew spread the gold upon the 
table, and to Johann it seemed more 
than the pittance it was. About four 
hundred francs or eighty dollars, to his 
blurred vision it was a shining, yellow 

The Jew explained further, "This 
rich boy fears for his life. For all his 
money he has as much ambition as a 
stuffed gander." And then with a change 
of tactics, "But it seems to me that you 
would be as much use to our army as 
the fifth wheel of a wagon. ACH! 
ACH! Lieber knabe, I thought only to 
help you." 

He made as if to leave, with a gesture 
of derision, and at that Johann sprang 

"One minute," he cried with vehe- 
mence, "I will go and my mother will 
bless me." 

Thus he signed away the only sup- 
port of his widowed mother and her five 

He swaggered into the house and 
seemed surprised to find Frau Wolff far 
from delighted. "Oh, Johann ! Johann !" 
she could only say, for how could she 
tell him that perhaps his duty was not 
to fight for kingdoms, but to stay at 



home and struggle for the existence of 
his family. How could she explain to 
this proud chap that money meant 
nothing to her compared to the loss of 
her noble son, her sole support and 
hope, — the living memory of his father. 
For answer Johann said simply, 
"Mother, I couldn't rest and rust!" 

With the next morning came a new 
realization and repentance for a while, 
but also in the morning the bugles 
called, the drums rolled, and Johann 
marched away with a cheery "AUF 
WIEDERSEHEN" on his lips, and 
there was a prayer in the heart of 
Frau Wolff that the "AUF WIEDER- 
SEHEN" might be on earth. 

As the dreary days lengthened into 
the even drearier weeks, the family 
lived in dismal monotony. Each day an 
agonizing period was to be endured 
when the villagers assembled in the 
square to hear the list of the dead read 
by the Burgomeister. 

"Joseph Meyer! Fritz Schaeffer! 
Adolph Foerder!" he would read in a 
resonant voice that was destined to 
pierce the heart of some mother there. 

Then the war crept close to the vil- 
lage, and the people left their homes to 
hide in the; hills, where all night long 
they watched the cannons flash over the 
city not far away. They watched their 
homes being pillaged by the enemy, 
while for food they ate nuts and ber- 
ries found in the woods, augumented by 
hastily-packed provisions. For drink 
they milked the roving cows and goats. 
At last it was safe for the people to 
return to the village and repair their 
homes as best they could, and life re- 
sumed its tiresome routine. 

Finally a letter was received from Jo- 
hann. He was now a member of the 
carefully-selected bodyguard of Em- 
press Eugenie's son, and he wore a 
magnificent uniform! How proud his 
mother should be, — but perhaps Frau 
Wolff knew then that she could never 
understand war as her son saw it. It 
would always be glorious and fine for 
him, even knowing that his end might 
be a mangled body in a lonely grave. 

"Yes, he would go on," she surmised, 
"go on never-fearing, go on never fal- 
tering, unmindful of the deep, dark hor- 
rors beneath the surface. There was 
within him the blood of six fighting an- 
cestors, ancestors who had fought al- 
ways, no matter what the conflict. He 
would adhere to the family tradition 
with his head held high and his face 

turned toward the fray, a proud mem- 
ber of the royal bodvguard of HIS MA- 

Mary E. Bodell '37 


Continued from page 28 
Montanari. The prologue was given by 
Jeannette Martin. The make-up was 
done by Mr. Charles Armstrong of the 
"Workshop Players." Miss Margaret 
Kenefick most kindly served as coach 
and she served us well, although she 
showed some misgivings over the as- 
tounding and sometimes thoroughly 
crazy behaviour of the "mis" — actors 
and actresses. (Twas their tempera- 

Just to serve as an example, Mrs. 
Briggs plaintively complained to our 
already worn-out coach (after a trying 
— indeed a very trying rehearsal) that 
she couldn't act in such a romantic 
manner as was necessary. Explanations 
were in order, and it was discovered 
that she and Mr. Ingolsby 'weren't 
speaking," having had a terrific argu- 
ment the day previous. Frequently 
Jessie found herself (quite out of char- 
acter) laughing at Rupert's silly faces 
and sillier remarks in the dramatic 
climax of a love scene. It also seemed 
as if that worthy gentleman was always 
tired, for he spent most of his "off" 
time reclining precariously, if not 
gracefully, on the long, hard seats in 
Room I. Often when his presence was 
needed to rehearse a scene, it was 
necessary to comb the rows of seats in 
the Assembly Hall for him. Lost — one 
"Sampy" Now that it's all over, I 
realize that we could have solved the 
problem by using a dog-collar and 

There were "painful" moments for 
poor Lancelot when he was forced to 
practice his disappearing act, and he 
always came up protesting righteously 
that he was full of aches and cramps. 

Since he would "go romantic" on a 
beautiful widow much against his 
mother's wishes, then he should have 
expected retribution in some form — 
and no sympathy whatever. 

The young widow, herself, had one 
miserable week, remaining at home 
from rehearsals on the coldest nights 
because of neuralgia in her face. Yes, 
this happened the week before the play. 
Perhaps you have observed that in ev- 
ery senior play this year some member 



of the cast was ill during the critical 
last week of rehearsal. Well, it was 
not dull "behind the scenes." 
Typical shots : 

1. "Sampy" doing a "Jekyll-Hyde" 
act: in a falsetto voice playing Rupert 
and then in the next breath filling in 
with a deep bass for the Mysterious 
Voice — whose part he knew by heart. 

2. A "giggle epidemic": Miss Kene- 
fick visibly holding her temper until the 
alternate tittering and loud guffaws had 

At this time we wish to tell you that 
Bill MacPhail accepted, like the troop- 
er that he is. the last-minute assign- 
ment of the "Mysterious Voice" — and 
he made a good job of it. 

As a final pleasing touch, the femin- 
ine members of the cast were presented 
with bouquets of sweet peas, bestowed 
upon them by their classmates. Miss 
Kenefick received a mixed bouquet from 
the cast. 

The audience received the perform- 
ance with enthusiasm, every Senior 
who was connected with the play, en- 
joyed the experience, and the class 
treasury profitted handsomely from 
this project. 

Respectfully submitted. 

•Jessie Briggs" 

Continued from page 25 
Souls which the Duke of MacPhailoma 
(Billeeeee, to you) will establish in the 
very heart of darkest Africa in 1981 
after he successfully escapes the ven- 
geance of the jealous Queen Annie of 
Hanelvania. This war in itself will not 
be extremely detrimental to the future 
welfare of the work since only two mil- 
lion nine hundred sixty-two thousand 
six hundred forty-four legionnaires will 
be shattered by Jostephani's force ray 
before a coincidental ( ?) shower of 
meteors will destroy the sultan and his 
confederate ally, the dictator of the 
Xorth Mongolian Siamese Empire and 
our own little shiek, Hitler H. B. C. 

"And now. as an experiment in physi- 
ognomy. I am very happy to present a 
strange creature that it was my unfort- 
unate good fortune to encounter upon 
that primitive orb. Earth. To the 
Earthlings he needs no introduction, 
but the rest of the universe has been 
little concerned with his activitiest since 
they have been confined primarily to 
but a few million inhabitants of the 
Earth. I am very much pleased to pre- 
sent none other than our own dear 

friend whose integrity and veracity are 
beyond reproach, His Lordship Baron 
Von Snoop! — " 

"Und now I'm here but how can I 
prove that I vas? Woe is me! Noth- 
ing ever happens. It seems that a 
Plymouth lad had high hopes of be- 
coming a famous fortune teller by the 
name of Abu Hastra. and after ten easy 
lessons he became so proficient that he 
began travelling in Europe. Everything 
was fine until he made the mistake of 
advising a wealthy client to beware of 
a dark man with a mustache. Now he's 
pushing up daisies. You know — they 
thought he was referring to their 
Mickey Mouse. 

Speaking of Mickey Mouse brings up 
the question of why he has attained so 
much popularity in the last few years. 
After glorifying rats in gangster pic- 
tures it seems easy to understand why 
Hollywood makes such a fuss over him. 

We hear that "Rango" Burns is pre- 
paring to make Hollywood's Tarzans 
look like a couple of toe dancers on 
roller skates. At least SOME- 
BODY admires his primitive ten- 
dencies. Uh-uh, I haven's met her. 

A. C.'s new Buick, we are told, has 
some pickup. 

Lindo rides around only a couple of 
nights a week, so he says. 

Spring has had an early effect on 
several undergraduates. It even affects 
the lofty seniors, and Bill's tennis game 
is slipping. 

Gilly was extremely interested in 
somebody's cousin a short time ago. 

Heartcrusher Howard objects to 
somebody's employment in a local es- 
tablishment because she often has to 
work overtime, and, since his bedtime is 
at nine o'clock and the walk home oc- 
cupies about thirty-five minutes, his 
dominating propensity toward ro- 
mance is severely cramped. 

Our songbird sings in the choir. 

Attention, girls ! "Pancho'' and "Doc" 
would make ideal husbands. Both can 
cook and sew amazingly well. 

Though "Doc," "Bill," "Pancho," 
Dean, "Spike, and a couple of would- 
be tennis stars can't take it, "rope" 
affects "Daybreak" but little, and he 
smokes like a volcano. 

Hear that Pete's doing all right for 

Congratulations and svmpathv to 

After Boston I am decidedly in favor 



of an absolute monarchy. Der Baron 
makes the laws, pleeeeze. 

Whoever told A. M. he could drive? 

Wonder why somebody's dad on 
Spooner Street likes dis Baron so-o-o 

Why do local lads walk north and 
northern lads walk south? How about 
it "Bradv." "Jackie," "Cal?" 

What is to be the fate of "Hitler V 
lass ring? 

Better journey to Duxbury more 
often. Frank. 

"lis sad to relate, but the Reed Com- 
munity Building is a long way from 
home in the wee hours of the morning. 
Wo-o-ooe is me ! 

Why do so many enjoy C?) dancing 
Wednesdays at school? 

Why is a car so important in one's 
social activities? 

Flags in room fifteen are still ar- 
ranged wrong. 

G. A. carries on a huge amount of 

P. W.'s pipes are doing all right by 
him an he's building up quite a fem- 
inine "fan" following. Nice going. 

Hope Mr. Smilev doesn't accidentally 
project some of his more diminutive 
pupils (or perhaps students is better 
for our prospective Sophs, but NEVER 
scholars) on the screen with his new 

Trask. the tremendous tall timber 
terror, tries tennis tentatively though 
thinks 'tis too tedious too trv tenacious- 

Incredible as it sounds, we hear that 
Buddy Martin — " 

"Sorry to interrupt, folks, but the 
Baron's atomic structure has crumbled 
completely ! Hm ! Strange as it may 
seem. I duplicated it precisely from the 
available energv. but a large, black 
rodent is all that has materialized. 
Ooops ! Nope, ifs white. Although the 
Baron was a rat at heart, he's now 
pink and white and as harmless as a 

"Well, so long and eood luck! Time 
is precious and I'm off on my vacation, 
twentv thousand vears in ... P. H. S. 
Why? Who?? *Uh-uh. You could 
never guess ! Au revoir.'' 

Treeor Soiaj Nitraai "34 

Terribly rough, "said the stranger on board 
the ocean liner. 
"Well/' said the farmer, "it wouldn't be near 

so rough -J .:.-. :at:e;r_ -trio trly ;^; ir. tre 

Tr.e lights :r_ the '.-:- he i failed 
Can I find you a strap?' a tall youth asked 
a lai;r a: his slue 

She smiled sweetly: "Thank you, but I hai e 

•Good." he replied, "maybe you'll let go of 
my tie now."' 

* * i- 

He thought if hirrs-elf as a :--:—-— — He 
sent a dozen of his jokes to a newspaper. Ore 
day a letter arrived with the address of the 
paper in the corner. Confidently, but with 
excitement running through htm he opened it. 

The letter said: 

Dear Sir: Your jokes received- Some e 
have seen before; some we have re: s-eer 7e: 

* * * 

Siph Z itrit lire era: leu-::.. 

Soph. Masculine: "What's the matter 

Soph. Feminine : He's one of those per si 1:3 
who always turns around and stares after you." 

Soph. Masculine: "Is he? How do you 

t* a * 

"Johnnie," asked his mother, "what is all that 
noise on the back porch?" 
"Mother, there's a thousand cats out there. 

fighting." said Johnnie, after a surrej. 

•Johnnie, you shouldn't exaggerate so. Now 
how many are there?" 

"There's five hundred, anyway 
Are vou r_:e : 

"Well, there's fifr 

"Johnnie, did you count them?" 

"Well, there's our cat and Thompsons', and 
I won't come down another cat." 
% * # 

"Pa." said son. "what becomes of a call- 
player when his eyes begin to fail?" 
Trey make him an umpire," said Pa. 

"Dad. if I saved you a dollar, would you give 
me half of it?" 

Yes Son. I would." 

" T "ell. pay me. You told rrte if 1 passed 
mathematics, you'd give me a dollar, and I 
flunked it. " 


First Business Man: "Have any of your 
childish hopes been realize:: 

Second Business Man: "One. Wren my 
mother combed my hair, I used to wish I 
didnt have an; 



SENIORS . . . . 

You'll want to look your best when you step up to receive your diploma, at that 

great event — Graduation 

We have the suits, ties, shirts and shoes, that will give you the well-dressed 
appearance that you desire 

Visit our store and let us assist you in making your selections 

"Plymouth's Largest Store for Men and Boys" 

56 Main St. Tel. 1121 Plymouth 

Compliments of 



Established Since 1825 

Hardware, Paints, Plumbing, Heating, 

and Sheet Metal Work 

"Trade Here with Confidence" 

Compliments of 



Distributor for 

H. P. Hood & Sons 

S. S. Pierce Specialties 

Birdseye Frosted Foods 

1 Warren Avenue 

Tel. 1298-W 


A. J. VBCCHI, Prop. 

"The Home of Good Fruit" 

40 Court Street Tel. 669 

Free Delivery 


Special Showing of 


Priced $2.95 to $4.95 

39 Court Street Plymouth 



Water Colors 
India Ink, black and colors 

Brushes and Water Colors 

Oil and Water Colors 














Co-operating with engineering firms, 
offers curricula leading to the Bachelor 
of Science degree in the following 
branches of engineering: 

Civil Engineering- 
Mechanical Engineering 
Electrical Engineering 
Chemical Engineering 
Industrial Engineering 


Co-operating with business firms, offers 
courses leading to the degree of Bachelor 
of Science in the following fields of 


Banking and Finance 

Business Management 

The Co-operative Plan of training enables the student to combine technical theory 

with the equivalent of two years of practical experience, and makes it possible for 

him to earn his tuition and a part of his other school expenses. 

For catalog or any further information write to: 

Northeastern University 

MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions 





Iii Planning Your Life's Career 

You may have discovered that you possess a talent for music or dramatics 
in taking part in such activities sponsored by your school. If you are so 
fortunate you owe it to yourself to develop your talent as completely as 
your ability and opportunities permit. 

Though you havcj decided on a professional or business career as your life 
work you should still cultivate your musical or histrionic ability as the most 
interesting, satisfying and cultural avocation possible to you. 

To become a professional musician and assure yourself of success in earning 
a good livelihood, or to become a successful actor or director you will need 
to pursue a complete course of study such as is offered by the New England 
Conservatory of Music. 

During its 68 years of service the New England Conservatory has educated 
thousands of young people for musical, operatic, and theatrical careers. A 
great many of its graduates are now filling important and well-paid positions 
as teachers and supervisors of music in schools and colleges, as artists on the 
operatic and concert stages, in the theatre, and in talking pictures. They are 
members of nationally known orchestras, bands, quartets and other musical 
groups and hundreds are successful private teachers. 

Students of the New England Conservatory are provided more opportunities 
for public performances than students of any similar institution in New 
England. They appear in orchestra concerts, band concerts, recitals, dramatic 
presentations and in radio broadcasts. 


If you live conveniently near or have a car or 
other available transportation to Boston we will 
be glad to have you attend some of the many 
public performances given by members of the 
student body and the faculty of the New Eng- 
land Conservatory of Music. To receive notices 
and free tickets simply sign and return the 
attached coupon to Mr. Ralph L. Flanders, Gen- 
eral Manager, New England Conservatory of 
Music, Boston, Mass. 

Our current catalog giving full information about courses and single subjects 
will also be sent if you check the space provided on the attached coupon. 

Fill out coupon and mail to 
Mr. Ralph L. Flanders at the 

_ NewEngland , 


Wallace Goodrich BOSTON 

Ralph L. Flanders 

I Please put my name on your mailing 

I I I list for free tickets for N. E. Con- 
' — ' servatory Concerts, etc. ' 

I I Please send catalogue of courses. I 

I Name 

I Address 


. City or Town 

I I 



Boston School 
of Anatomy and 
Embalming, Inc. 

Oldest School in its Field 
in New England 

offering to the prospective student of 
Embalming, who may be contemplating 
a career in the professions, a thorough- 
ly comprehensive, scientific course of 
instruction, embracing embryology, His- 
tology, Physiology, Anatomy, Chemis- 
try, Mortuary Law, Business Procedure 
and Ethics, Bacteriology, Pathology, 
Sanitary Science and Principles and 
Practices of Embalming. 

For information address the 

Registrar, Boston School of Anatomy 
and Embalming'. 

Rooms 30-31-31A 

169 Massachusetts Ave., Boston, Mass. 

Phones, Circle 7754 — School 

K.ENmore 6082 

was founded in 1909 by the late 
Elliot D. Robbins, M. D., grad- 
uate of the Harvard Medical School, 
class of '79. Dr. Robbins for many years 
was associated with Dr. Carl Barnes, 
founder and director of the Barnes 
School of Anatomy, Sanitary Science 
and Embalming, and on many occa- 
sions lectured and demonstrated em- 
balming throughout the United States 
and Canada, before various Societies 
and Gatherings. He was a foremost 
educator and a staunch advocator of 
educational advance and research. In 
his death the school lost a most noble 
and enthusiastic leader. Upon the 
death of Dr. Robbins, Dr. Robert J. 
Williams, now a clergyman, succeeded 
Dr. Robbins as the School President. 

In 1924 because of the death of many of the 
original incorporators the school was re-incor- 
porated and Franklin I. Flagg, M. I)., was ap- 
pointed as President to succeed Dr. Williams 
who retired to give more time to his many 
religious duties, hut who continues as a mem- 
ber of the Board of Governors of the School. 
The School now located in the midst of the 
Academic section of Boston, surrounded by 
Churches, Theatres, Schools, Museums, Gym- 
nasiums, Hotels, Restaurants, etc. The beauti- 
ful Fens is but a block away, in fact the School 
is most accessable, being located nearly opposite 
the Massachusetts Avenue Station. The class 
sessions now require 26 weeks for completion. 
There are four opening dates annually, Dec- 
ember, March, June and September. 




LL AVE you thought of the time when you will be ready to take your 
place in the world of industry? Have you picked the career you wish to 

Why not, then, follow the example of 
many other New England girls . . . 
choose Beauty Culture, the profession 
that insures success . . . that means 
good positions — a professional career 
and a pleasing vocation. 
The Wilfred Academy of Hair and 
Beauty Culture, is an ethical school 
manned by a faculty of world famous 
authorities in all branches of hair de- 

sign and beauty culture. It thoroughly 
trains you to become an accredited 

A Wilfred diploma enjoys unequaled 
prestige with beauty experts every- 
where. It entitles you to respect and 
honor and it is a guarantee that you 
are well versed in all the fundamentals 
of this fascinating field. 

Call, write or phone for illustrated booklet "n" — Day and evening classes. 

Register now, so that you may be sure of a place in our classes 

the day after your school term is over. 




492 Boylston St., Boston, Mass. KENmcre 7286 



Burdett Training 


for Young Men — 

Business Administration and Accounting 
Courses, as preparation for sales, credit, 
financial, office management and account- 
ing positions. College grade instruction. 
Open to High School Graduates. 

for Young Women — 

Executive Secretarial, Stenographic Secre- 
tarial, and Finishing Courses, as prepara- 
tion for promising secretarial positions. 
Individual advancement. Open to High 
School Graduates. 

tor Both — 

General Business, Bookkeeping, Short- 
hand and Typewriting Courses, as prepara- 
tion for general business and office posi- 
tions. Open to High School Graduates. 

VV/HETHER secured before or after college, 
»▼ Burdett Training is helpful throughout life. 
It is an essential part of the equipment of every young 
person who seeks employment in business. Burdett 
courses include basic subjects with several distinct 
opportunities for specialization. Instruction is prac- 
tical and close attention is paid to individual needs. 

Students and graduates from many leading men's 
and women's colleges attend Burdett College each 
year. A copy of the 58-page illustrated cata- 
logue, describing Burdett courses, will be sent 
without obligation to any person interested in 
business training. Address 

• FALL TERM (1934) 


Telephone HANcock 6300 

Burdett College 

F. H. BURDETT. President 






¥m. J. Sharkey 

Compliments of 


Beauty and Barber Shops 

Look Your Best; See Us! 

Tel. 333 

South Duxbury 
Tel. 12 

Compliments of 


Quality Food Products 



Compliments of 

Old Colony Laundry of Plymouth 


In Planning for an After-Graduation Party 

Save with SAFETY at the 



Plymouth ft Brockton St. Ry. Co. 



Town Square Shirley Square 


Established 1907 

An Accredited School Preparation for College by Certificate or Examination 

Summer Term begins June 25, 1934 
Fall Session begins September 19, 1934 


Telephone COMmonwealth 9262 Send for Catalogue Now 


^^— — = OR FOR SUMMER 

Be Dressy For Graduation! We Have Everything the 
Graduate Would Want, whether it's Wearing Apparel 
or Merely A Gift For Graduation. 



Graduation Photographs . . . that satisfy 


Telephone 9992-M 




Compliments of 


Compliments of 



Diamonds, Watches, Jewelry, Silverware, Clocks 

2 8 Main Street Plymouth, Mass. 

On the Radio 
Enna Jettick Shoes for Ladies 

Franklin Shoes for Men 

18 Main Street Edward Hand, Mgr. 


Furniture, Rugs, Shades and Linoleum 
7-9 Town Square Plymouth, Mass. 

Telephone 134-M 



Cleansing — Dyeing — Pressing 

Phone 1240 — Next to Park Theatre 
Work Called for and Delivered 


Mattresses, Box Springs, Cushions, Pillows 
Repaired and Made to Order 

Furniture and Upholstering 
2 8 Sandwich Street Tel. 148 5 


Optometrist and Optician 

17 Court Street, Russell Bldg., Plymouth 

Compliments of 


Bread, Pies, and Cakes 

Wholesale and Retail 

20 Market Street Plymouth 

Tel. 225-M 


Paint Headquarters 

62 Court Street Tel. 9 51 




Compliments of 



The swain and swainess had just encount- 
ered a bulldog who looked as if he might 
shake a mean lower jaw. 

"Why, Percy," she exclaimed, as he started 
a strategic retreat, "you always swore you 
would face death for me." 

"I would," he flung back over his shoulder, 
"but that darn dog ain't dead." 


Young Son Papa, now that you've bought 
sister a piano, couldn't you buy me a pony? 

Father: What for, my child? 

Son: So I can go out to ride when she is 
learning to play. 

The motorist emerged from beneath the 
car and struggled for breath. 

'Plymouth's Paint Centre 

Ready Mixed 70-30 Paint $3.35 per gal. 

Ready Mixed O-L-O Paint $2.95 per gal. 
Ready Mixed STRAND Paint $1.75 per gal. 
Dutch Boy White Lead $11.00 per 100 lbs. 


Compliments of 

L. B. HAYDEN, M. D. 

Compliments of 

Puritan Cleansing and Tailoring Shop 

Compliments of 


Shoe Repairing 
3 6 Market Street Plymouth 

His helpful friend, holding an oil can, 
beamed on him: 

"I've just given the cylinder a thorough 
oiling Dick." 

"Cylinder?" howled the motorist, "that 
wasn't the cylinder. It was my ear." 

Villain (laughing) : "Ha, ha. You are help- 
less, the old homestead belongs to me?" 

Hero: "And where are the papers?" 

Villain: "At the blacksmith's." 

Hero: "You are having them forged." 

Villain: "Nay, nay. I am having them 

* * * 

There was a young man from Dakota 
Who purchased a second hand mota, 
But, as he foreboded, 
The darn thing exploded, 
Now Dakota is minus one vota. 

When There Is Better Work Done, 

We Will Do It 



Main Street Plymouth 

Compliments of 




(The Operation of a System that 
Supplies Public Need) 

Plymouth Electric Light Co. 

Your Service Company 



(Ekes at 1934 









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bH tffl 





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'^■-■/'' : SpM